


legend of sugawara koushi

by FrazzledDragon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A little whump, Angst, BAMF Sawamura Daichi, BAMF Sugawara Koushi, Breath of the Wild Spoilers, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I promise this will have a happy ending, Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild AU, Literally everyone's badass, M/M, Nothing explicit, Panic Attacks, Sawamura Daichi is So Stressed, Sugawara Koushi is a Mess, Sword Fighting, Tags Are Hard, everyone is stressed, i will make it better, it's not a perfect copy of the botw storyline, lots of screaming, mentioned past suicide attempt, no editing we die like men, this is entirely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 86,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrazzledDragon/pseuds/FrazzledDragon
Summary: Sawamura Daichi wakes up in a strange cave with no memories, only to find out he's been sleeping for one hundred years. In his absence, the world has gone to chaos. Apparently, it's his responsibility to set it right. At least he's not alone.Sugawara Koushi hasn't been outside in one hundred years, and every day is a battle. The Calamity does not want to be contained, and Suga can't hold it back forever. Some days, it's hard to keep up hope of his knight returning. He sees him in his dreams sometimes.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma & Yachi Hitoka, Kuroo Tetsurou & Sawamura Daichi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Shimizu Kiyoko & Yachi Hitoka
Comments: 94
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> listen i KNOW i'm supposed to be writing the sequel to sugarella but this idea wouldn't leave me alone
> 
> this is gonna be a mess but i hope whoever ends up reading this likes it! updates are gonna be really sporadic, as unlike with my other works, i don't actually have this finished in advance, but oh well :D lemme know whatcha think!!!
> 
> turns out, writing videogame logic into a story that actually makes sense is MUCH harder than i originally thought so this might be a total trainwreck and i'm okay with that

“ _ Daichi… open… open your eyes… please… Daichi… please…” _

The words feel distant, like a dream he is too awake to return to. His head throbs as his eyes peel open, the glowing blue piercing through the haze of sleep. 

He does not know where he is.

The sound of draining water. His fingers twitch - the warmth that held them in his sleep is seeping away, and his muscles tremble as he forces himself upright. The last of the water, warm and cocooning drifts away. He shivers at the sudden cold that kisses his skin. 

He does not know where he is.

He does not know  _ who _ he is.

He drives the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing harshly… Daichi. That’s what that fading, distant voice had called him. That sounds right. Daichi… The name feels like a soft, well-tailored shirt.

Which, honestly, he’d really like right now - he’s a little chilly and when he looks down at himself, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. Tentatively, he moves, forcing his legs up and over the side of the… tub? Bed? What was he even sleeping in?

Whatever it is, it glows blue, pulsing light emanating, as though to welcome him and celebrate his waking. It doesn’t…  _ feel _ wrong, looking at this creation, but his gut begs him to leave regardless. Something about this place reeks of danger, though he can’t put his finger on it.

His knees shake, but his legs hold him as he finally stands. He wobbles, something drawing him to the glowing pedestal in the corner of the cavernous space. Swirling, spiraling designs decorate what appears to be the walls of a cave, and Daichi finds himself lost in the seemingly meaningful patterns. 

He leans heavily against the pedestal, panting for breath. It too is glowing, but it glows orange instead of blue. Now that he’s looking closely, the lights seem to be writhing within the thin barrier. Hints of yellow and red glimmer beneath the surface.

He does not know where he is.

He does not know who he is.

But the way these lights dance seem familiar. The swirls on the pedestal all lead his eyes toward the center, where there is a flat, decorated plate awaiting him. As he reaches toward it, cautious and uncertain, the pedestal reacts, lifting it up so it’s easier to grab. It seems to sing to him,  _ take it! Take it! _

He wraps tan fingers around the edge, and cries out as pain swells in his skull. He slams his eyes shut.

_ He’s in a sandy arena, across from another man, decked all in silver armor. He cannot see his face - the helmet’s facemask is down. They’re sparring, silver swords dancing in the morning sunlight. The other man is laughing, a beautiful and bright laugh, and so is he. There’s another man, and a woman, leaning against the fencing that surrounds the arena, and they are elbowing one another and chuckling too. He cannot focus on their faces. _

_ On the other side of the arena, two knights are jousting. They are too far away to identify. A giant mechanical robot, pulsing blue, obediently shoots down targets as a woman with a notebook and her back to Daichi dictates. Butterflies flutter about cheerfully, without a care in the world. _

He gasps as he blinks, and the vision is gone. It does not feel like a dream, he can feel the sword’s grip in his hands and remember the way the sand crept into his boots, gritting against the soles of his feet as he and the other knight attacked and retreated, tense and at ease all at once. He leans over, bracing himself on his knees. A memory. That was a memory.

He’s a knight. A knight named Daichi. He takes a deep breath.

“ _ Daichi…” _

The voice from before tugs against his consciousness. He would say he  _ hears _ the voice, but that’s not right. He suspects that even if he covered his ears, that voice would be just as loud and clear. He swallows. “Hello?” His voice is raspy from disuse, but he notes that he is not thirsty, nor hungry.

No one responds to his call, least of all the owner of the voice. Even more cautiously than before, he reaches for the plate. It does not trigger another memory, so he takes it. The pedestal, as if sighing in relief, stops glowing. He steps back, unsure of what it might do next. 

There’s a slight breeze, the smell of spring flowers drifting into his nostrils. He turns, taking a couple steps toward the scent.

His eyes fall on a crumbled set of stairs, which clearly used to lead out of wherever it is he is. It’s not clear what led to their destruction, but Daichi carefully climbs his way over the rubble and toward the source of the breeze. There’s a tunnel, winding, but he can see hints of sunlight toward the end, so he keeps going.

Near the entrance to the cave he was sleeping in, there’s a large chest. He opens it slowly, cautious of anything that may jump out of it. It, much like the stairs, is in a state of disuse, critters having gnawed through the tough leather and borrowed through the wood to get inside. When he opens the lid, cobwebs rise with a vengeance, so he bats them away.

Inside the chest are clothes. They look like they may have been nice clothes too, at one point in time, a simple design of three triangles stitched into the hems. However, time has not been any kinder to them than to the stairs, or the chest itself, and they are dusty and peppered with holes.

But they are better than nothing, so he shakes them out as best he can. His skin crawls when a cockroach falls to the ground and skitters away, but he pulls them on nonetheless. They fit him all too perfectly for clothing left in a chest to slowly decay. 

Did someone leave these for him?

If so, how long had he been asleep?

The thought makes his head ache terribly, so he ignores it for now in favor of heading toward the sunshine which pours around a bend in the tunnel and beckons him forward, forward, forward. 

The sunlight is blinding and the sky is so, so blue, and he staggers into the warmth, breathing the fresh, floral-scented air deeply. His heart is pounding.  _ How long had he been asleep? _ His skin rejoices, tingling with excitement. Breathing seems easier, out in the sun. His muscles seem to revitalize.

How long had he been asleep?  _ Where  _ is he?

“Hello,” a leathery voice calls from his right. He turns. The woman is cloaked, with long silvery hair that slips out of her hood and down her shoulders in impressive waves. He takes a step closer to her, offering an awkward wave.

Just how much of his stumbling, stagger exit had she seen?

Does he care?

“Are you a traveller, friend?” She asks and though she smiles, her eyes do not. “You seem somewhat… hmm… lost?”

Yes,  _ lost.  _ That is  _ exactly _ what Daichi is. So incredibly, amazingly, impossibly lost in so many different ways all at once. “Something like that,” he manages to say. “Where… Where am I, precisely?”

“How exactly does one end up in the middle of a land without knowing what land it is they’ve ended up in?” Her voice is gentle and teasing. Daichi, strangely, doesn’t find it very funny.

“Believe me, if I knew, I’d tell you,” he mutters under his breath, before shaking his head. “Not sure,” he says. “Haven’t been to a town in a while.”

She looks him up and down. “I can see that.”

He waits. 

“You’re in the kingdom of Haikyuu, dear. Does that ring a bell?”

It does not, but he nods slowly regardless. “Okay.”

“You don’t sound very convinced. Did you perhaps hit the bottle a little too hard?”

He shakes his head. “No… just… still trying to wake up.”

She nods. “You look rather familiar, dear. Do we know one another?” Her eyes are piercing and her question obviously pointed. She slowly removes her hood.

The action makes his head hurt. Looking at her lances pain across his skull, but he looks at her nonetheless, forcing himself to study her features. It hurts, it hurts so, so badly, but she does… she does look familiar. He forces himself to think about it, really focus, but nothing comes forward. No memories, no voices. Nothing.

“Have you heard a voice since you woke?” She asks, when he doesn’t manage a verbal response. He blinks in shock. “A male voice? Sound familiar?”

“I… Well…”

She smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. Actually, I’m rather hoping you have. See, I’m rather fond of the source to that voice, dear. I… I want him safe more than anything in the world. So tell me, have you heard a voice?”

He swallows, nodding.

Her smile grows to a grin. “Then the prophecy can still come to pass. There is still hope. My love does not fight on for nothing.” She takes a deep breath. “Brace yourself, Daichi.”

Daichi’s so thrown by hearing her say his name that he in no way prepares himself to watch her begin to float, teal fire enveloping her for a moment. In the place of a cloaked woman stands a tall, proud queen, hair braided neatly behind her back. The crown on her head has the same triangle design as his shirt. She folds her hands neatly in front of her.

“My name is Queen Sugawara Aito. I am…  _ was _ the last ruler of Haikyuu. I have been awaiting your return for a long time, Sawamura Daichi.” The names clang around inside his head like the loudest church bells. He grits his teeth. “Take the pain in stride, Knight. You have slept for one hundred years and sleep has stolen your memories away. Steal them back. It is worth the pain.”

He steels himself. “Queen Sugawara Aito,” he says quietly, and pain explodes in his skull. He grits his teeth, clenching his fists, but nothing happens. She hums.

“Good, Daichi. I see that your slumber has not stolen away your determination, nor your strength. That is a relief. May I tell you a story?”

He nods, thoroughly overwhelmed. One hundred years? How the everloving  _ hell- _

“There used to be many demons called Calamities in this world. Our ancestors, who were far more advanced than we, took many out using their technological strength, before eventually losing themselves in the fight against the final Calamity. The final Calamity, Calamity Vol, was clever and powerful and possessed wholly by Malice, but could not completely escape our ancestors. He was made dormant, lying in wait beneath the ruin of their civilization. From the ashes of those people, we rose.

“As long as there have been people walking this land, there has been the prophecy. Calamity Vol would rise again, and this time it would bring about the end of this world. However, there will be two to rise against it.

“One would be a prince, wreathed in silver light who has the power to hold back the Malice. The other would be a knight, honorable and strong, who wields the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness. Together, they would rend the darkness and Malice that gives strength to Calamity Vol powerless, and would be able to finish it off once and for all. 

“Unfortunately, this is not a story simply to put children to bed. No, this was the story of our future, one hundred years past. Taking heed of this prophecy, for it has persisted as long as our civilizations have, we trained and strove to learn more about how our ancestors had put the other Calamities to rest. We adopted their technologies, bent their Divine Beasts to our will. We learned and read and researched and trained until our very bones ached.

“It became clear that our prince of legend was none other than my own son, Koushi. Despite being no older than you, his hair has always been pure silver, and his strength and devotion to his people and the greater good has always allowed him to stand out from the other royals. Then… you came along.”

The queen pauses to take a breath, eyeing him. “You, who did not realize the significance of the weapon you wielded, who were humble and a peasant. I saw you for what you were and appointed you as Koushi’s knight.

“But, we had grown cocky in our research. Our discovery of the Divine Beasts revealed logs. Logs that dictated how these Beasts alone were enough to destroy seventeen Calamities. We saw this as evidence. We would not risk the Prince, my son. We would utilize the Divine Beasts better than our ancestors, and when the time came, my son would be safe.

“When Calamity Vol attacked, we were atrociously unprepared. The Champions, chosen pilots of the Divine Beasts, were separated and slain. Our kingdom fell under its attack. Vol used its Malice to corrupt the Divine Beasts, and every piece of war technology our ancestors left for us.” The queen chuckles, no humor in the sound. “It is not so hard to wonder how our ancestors fell beneath its wrath, centuries before we would find their remains. We were fools.

“My son… Prince Koushi… When you fell protecting him…” The queen steps forward, fingers brushing against his cheek. Surprised, he feels for himself, finding a large scar cutting across his cheek, perhaps the only evidence of what came before on his skin. “He saw you escorted to the Shrine of Resurrection, where legend tells of hero after hero being saved from the brink of death, then went to fulfill the prophecy on his own. He fights now, against Calamity Vol. The fact that he lives on, one hundred years later, and that you wake now, is a sign from the universe. The prophecy will come to pass, for better or worse. You will rise to stand by Koushi’s side. You will either slay Vol or Vol will slay you both, and that will be the end of us all. It is your destiny.”

Daichi expects terror. He expects doubt. He expects panic and anxiety and thorough denial to course through his veins. Instead, there’s only a deep sense of right. This is right. This is familiar. Something unsure settles in him. This is his purpose.

“You’ve decided, haven’t you?” She smiles. “My spirit has been tied to this spot for one hundred years, and you have changed just as little. Perhaps heroism is not something taught, but something core in a person.” She shifts, and Daichi watches as the vision of the queen begins to flicker before his eyes. “Daichi, I am a failed queen. I am a failed mother. I have not protected my kingdom, and worse yet, I have not protected my son. I have no right to ask you to do anything. But, regardless, I beg you to fulfill your destiny. Save my son. Save this kingdom. Save these people.”

She seems to be fading. Daichi will not let her spirit fade unsatisfied. “I will do my best, your Majesty.” He bows. He does not know this Sugawara Koushi, does not really know this queen, but spirits do not get tied to the mortal realm on accident or on a whim. That, if nothing else, lends credence to the story.

“Sir Sawamura Daichi,” she says, and her voice begins to fade. “When you need me, I will come. That is my promise to you.”

She fades, leaving Daichi alone in the clearing. Something in him wants to cry. There is so much to be done, and so little time to do it. How could she leave him when he doesn’t even know who he is? Where did he come from? What brought him to the Kingdom of Haikyuu? What led to him getting the Sword? He has so many questions, and she might have been the only being left that could answer them for him.

Determined not to start crying, he studies his surroundings.

There is so much to see. He’s on an elevated plateau, overlooking vast wilderness. There are mountains on the horizon and lakes and rivers scattered about. There are forests and deserts and snow. This land is  _ huge _ and  _ diverse _ and Daichi is  _ so _ out of his depth. 

This looks like a place he should remember, but he remembers none of it. This alone feels like a sin. He bites his bottom lip firmly, eyes stinging. There is so much beauty here. So much life, from the smallest blade of grass to the deer he watches cross through the tall grass, to the ginormous trees that tower over them all. And he is sure of none of it.

Slowly, his eyes crawl over a giant cathedral. The building is huge, and despite being obviously dilapidated, seems like as good a starting point as any to figuring out what his next move should be.

He picks his way over the rocky slope, frowning as he realizes some of the “boulders” he’s climbing over are chunks of building. Likely, pieces of the cathedral itself.

As he gets closer to the building, he understands better where the destruction came from.

The giant robots, the same as the ones in his vision, are  _ everywhere _ . Scattered pieces covered in moss and rust, some frozen mid-attack by whatever force shut them down. Daichi realizes, with deep-seeded dread, that these robots were their ancestors’ technology - part of the force that turned against them one hundred years ago.

He thinks of how easily one could destroy targets, regardless of how far away they were and how trickily they were moving. He shudders. No wonder they lost. He accidentally kicks something, and when he looks down to see what it is, he realizes it’s a child’s shoe, leather and half-burnt.

That dread in his stomach twists, making him nauseous. How many had died while he slumbered?

He shakes that thought out of his head firmly. That is not relevant. If the queen was to be believed, he was on the brink of death himself. If he had not slumbered, he would not have survived. He would be able to save no lives if he were dead.

He can save lives now, and he will. That, he is sure of. Even if the only life he saves is that of the prince whose destiny entwines with his own. He can do that. He can figure this out, and save this prince. The knots in his stomach ease. 

This prophecy feels  _ right _ , when everything else feels wrong. That is all he’s going on. That’s all he has. He shakes his head again. That’s all he needs.

The closer he gets to the giant robots, the more anxious he gets. They really are huge, maybe four times his height. Curious, he cautiously tries to move one - they are  _ unbelievably  _ heavy. Yet, the one in his vision had moved easily, as though it weighed nothing?

He swallows. Focus. He needs to focus. One task at a time. First, get into the cathedral. Second, figure out step two.

The inside of the cathedral feels otherworldly. There is destruction and remnants of lives everywhere, but the structure remains mostly standing, despite the fact. Long and narrow, Daichi examines everything to the best of his ability. There’s moss growing over the stonework and rot has taken over the woodwork. By the look of the ceiling, which remains mostly intact, should he need to take shelter, this would do. It’s not necessarily the most secure, but it would do in a pinch or a rainstorm.

He takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

_ Sawamura… _

He spins. That voice was like nothing he’d ever heard before, and sent chills crawling up his spine. In the back of the cathedral are statues, tall and foreboding. They depict smiling women, but only in the vaguest sense, their bodies relatively shapeless and undefinable. The smiles have intent, Daichi is certain, but whether it is the lighting or the way they have been formed, there is no way to know exactly what that intent is.

He walks toward them.

There is a square tile, smooth and untouched by moss directly in front of the largest statue. Its purpose occurs to him slowly. He is in a cathedral, where worship would occur. These statues are huge and have cloth adorning them, so likely were symbolic of something worthy of worship. The tile is meant for kneeling before them, to pray.

What does he have to lose?

He kneels and lowers his eyes to the floor.

_ Sawamura Daichi. Hero. Warrior. Defender. He Who Slumbered for One Hundred Years. _

He shivers harshly. He does not raise his gaze.

_ What have you come to pray for, my child? _

Seeing as he’s had all of approximately three blinks of an eye to think about it, he blanks for a moment. “Understanding,” he says eventually, as vague as it is. There is nothing else he wants now, though. He wants to understand what this world he’s been dropped into is, why he slept for one hundred years, why it seems like everyone and everything knows who he is, and why it is that everything is riding on him and some random prince that Daichi doesn’t even remember?

_ A worthy prayer, child. Close your eyes and understand. _

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. His eyes slide closed.

_ There is no burst of pain, and he opens his eyes cautiously. His bottom hurts a little, and so do his knees from where he’s kneeling on poke-y branches, but otherwise he’s unharmed. The wagon keeps rolling.  _

_ He can hear it singing to him. He’s no more than a child, perhaps ten winters old, but the siren song only gets louder. He told his parents - they were going  _ so close _ to the source of the song - would they please just stop the horses for a little bit so he could go find out where the singing was coming from? They had yelled at him - there is no singing, they said, they don’t have time to stop on account of his imagination. Daichi doesn’t blame them for yelling - his little brothers had been causing trouble all day, and they were tired. He’d be cranky too. _

_ But he  _ has _ to find out what the singing is. He has to know. If they won’t help him, he’ll do it himself. That is what they taught him, after all. The importance of independence and motivation. He can make them proud this way. _

_ He steps into the treeline. The singing is getting louder. _

_ Woodland animals and creatures that should not exist dart in and out of his peripherals. He feels fear creep into his blood, panic wrap tightly around his joints - pulling and trying to hold him back. He does not let it. _

_ The singing stops all at once when his eyes fall upon the Sword, golden and glowing and beautiful in the light that filters through the treetops. _

_ The vision whirs, blurs, then clears again. He’s standing in a crevice in the mountainside, watching as adults excavate a few paces away, where bits of robot peek out. He realizes they don’t know he’s here, listening in on their conversation. “According to the translated logs, this is likely a guardian,” one woman says, analyzing what appears to be a leg with three toes. “In all the art we’ve recovered, the guardians surround the Divine Beasts! We must be close!” _

_ “Haiba,” an older man scolds, his hands on his hips. He’s got wild, gray hair that sticks up in every direction, but his eyes are clear and piercing. Though he scolds her, there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. Daichi gets the feeling he’s every bit as excited as she is, just better at hiding it. “You’re getting ahead of yourself again. We must learn all we can regarding this guardian first. Perhaps it can offer us more than the translated logs can. When we find the Divine Beasts, we can begin making statements about them.” _

_ She giggles, and grins at him. She sees through his grumpy act too. “Sorry, Doctor Kuroo. I’m just so excited! Suga looked so stressed the last time I saw him and I just want to help!” _

_ The man, Doctor Kuroo, softens. The smile slips through. It looks vaguely feline. “I do not have an issue with your drive.” The smile fades, replacing it a look of worry. “I, too, would like to ease the burden on our prince. Far be it from I to question the decisions of the queen, but in my opinion, Suga is far too young to have such a prophecy put on his shoulders.” _

_ The woman, Haiba, sombers and wraps her arms tightly around her midsection, which now that Daichi’s attention has been drawn to it, is slightly swollen. She’s pregnant. “This situation is far from ideal for anyone involved. The threat of Calamity Vol growing ever nearer weighs on everyone’s mind.” _

_ Doctor Kuroo nods, then rolls his shoulders back. “No use dwelling on what we cannot change. Queen Sugawara will lead us to victory if we can provide her the proper weapons. That is what we need to focus on. Now let us return to our research, Sir Sawamura is overlooking research for Prince Suga today and we cannot have him reporting to the queen that we lack discipline and work ethic.” _

_ The vision changes again. This time, he is riding a horse, following a slim boy, also on horseback. The boy’s hair is silver, soft-looking in the setting sun. “The Champions seem to be settling in well,” a gentle voice that seems to emanate from the boy says, breaking the silence. “I had my doubts about Hinata, but the woman is a force to be reckoned with, for sure.” He laughs, shoulders shaking. “I wasn’t expecting her to challenge you to a duel. I suppose I should thank you for going easy on her.” _

_ Daichi wants to speak, to answer, but he can’t make his voice work. _

_ “Bokuto, I think, may be the most suited for the position of them all,” he continues, as though the silence that stretched between them was nonexistent. “He is smarter than people give him credit for. Though his brashness may cause problems, unless he learns to accept mine or my mother’s command over his own impulses. _

_ “Oikawa also, I find impressive. She is perhaps the least remarkable looking of them all, a woman without overwhelming strength or ingenuity or fortune in her blood, but the raw willpower to see any task through and her innate sense for the people around her make her quite the asset, indeed. _

_ “However, over all, I think perhaps Shimizu is the most surprising. The man struck me as so utterly serious and studious - his prowess for combat seems completely at odds with his personality. I think, like Oikawa, the drive to complete any task set before him to the best of his abilities is what makes him remarkable. Even if he gets nervous or loses focus at times, he comes back strong as ever.” _

_ They ride over the crest of a hill, just in time to watch the sun slowly crawl below the horizon. Daichi’s horse stops without his telling it to, just far enough behind the boy that Daichi cannot see his face, just his silver hair. _

_ “I worry, sometimes, that  _ I’m _ the least impressive of them all, Daichi.” The boy lets out a humorless laugh. “All of them were chosen because they were fantastic in some way or another. I am expected to be fantastic, and so was chosen.” Daichi watches tension settle onto the boy’s shoulders. “Expectation is not the same as reality,” he murmurs softly. “I wonder how long I will have to struggle to reach that which is perhaps not mine to attain.” _

_ There’s a beat of silence. _

_ “I wonder when my mom will accept that I’m not the prince the prophecy spoke of. There’s probably someone else. Someone who actually  _ has  _ this power that legend speaks of and not someone who just wants it really badly.” He chuckles humorlessly again. “Hell, even  _ you _ were remarkable first, then chosen. You checked even less of the boxes than I do and still are obviously the warrior from the legend.” _

_ Daichi opens his mouth, determined to answer, determined to do  _ something _ when the vision blurs again. _

He blinks, and he’s kneeling in front of the statues in the cathedral once again.

_ Do you understand, Sawamura Daichi? _

He thinks he might throw up. He is overwhelmed and lost and so very confused, but yes, he supposes, he does understand… some things, maybe a little better than before. “Yes.”

The voice chuckles.  _ I cannot give you everything. Even powers such as mine have their limits. To be present on this mortal plane, even as a voice, is taxing. Sawamura Daichi, there is no being that does not have a limit. Not even gods. Seek out the Divine Beasts. Turn them back to your side. Save your prince.  _

_ But I need not tell you that. That, you already know. What I can tell you is this: your path to the castle will be treacherous and long, and you will need whatever help you can get. When you exit this cathedral, turn toward the sun and whistle. Perhaps a friend will hear you. _

Though he doesn’t know exactly what,  _ something _ leaves the room like a gust of wind, and Daichi crumples, laying on the floor in a heap for a moment. Tears spring to his eyes again, but this time he doesn’t dash them away, but lets them slip down his cheeks and  _ plink _ softly onto the ground next to him. For all of what lies ahead of him, surely they can forgive him this - whoever’s temple this is. They never did introduce themselves.

This moment to breathe, where for once, nothing is happening, no one is unloading life-shattering information on him, and he doesn’t have to think about just how completely out of his depth he is, reveals many things to him, but most importantly...

He doesn’t know where the castle is.

This poses a problem.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi makes three new friends.
> 
> Suga just wants some food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello
> 
> i am back on my bullshit
> 
> here's another chapter!!! i hope you like it!!! it's probably a mess!!! but probably still readable!!! maybe!!! have a good day!!! stay safe and healthy out there!!!

It’s slow and aching, but he stands eventually. _Turn toward the sun and whistle_ , said the voice, _perhaps a friend will hear you_. What sort of friend is listening for his whistle? Can he whistle? He doesn’t know.

He exits the cathedral carefully, examining it just as closely as before. He has so much that he doesn’t know. He has so much he wants to understand. It is a struggle. As he finally steps back onto the grass, the shoots seeping between his toes, he raises his fingers to his mouth, and lets out a shrill whistle. 

There’s a distant whinny, and Daichi watches in pure amazement as a draft horse, black as night and _giant_ gallops toward him, merriment dancing in its dark eyes.

The horse stops in front of him, rearing in what Daichi _hopes_ is glee. She’s seriously huge - her shoulder is level with Daichi’s eyes, and hulking muscle ripples beneath her dark coat. She’s wild, that much is obvious by the length of her mane and the tangles in her tail, but she’s familiar. Almost creepily so. And she knows him, despite her wildness. He who has been asleep for one hundred years. That doesn’t make any sense.

Then she headbutts him in the chest, and he’s swearing as he stumbles back, “ _Damn you_ , Karasu...” He pauses, just as surprised as the horse. The horse backs up a pace, rearing once again. This time, it feels more obviously gleeful. “You’re… Karasu?”

Whinnying, the horse comes close again, pressing her long face into his chest gently, almost like a hug.

“Were… Were you _my_ horse? One hundred years ago?” He feels the slightest bit silly, talking to a horse of all things, and the idea of a horse being one hundred years old is _definitely_ hysterical, but Karasu seems to be the only one around here giving him straight answers. As much as it doesn’t make sense, it makes even less sense that a horse that doesn't know him at all would be acting this way, so he decides not to think too hard about it. There's enough to make his head spin - a horse being kind to him doesn't seem like a priority.

Karasu huffs a breath, pressing closer still. There’s a sadness to the sound that Daichi cannot begin to describe, but he strokes a hand down her long, thick neck.

“I’m sorry I left you,” he says softly. “I’m sorry I’ve forgotten everything. I don’t think I wanted to go. I don’t think I meant to.”

Karasu whinnies again, gentle and low. A tremor runs down her spine. It feels like acceptance. Like understanding.

“But apparently, I haven’t forgotten you, so that’s something,” he murmurs. She snorts, headbutting him again, making him stumble back. He smiles at her antics, because it feels familiar and right to do so, and she whinnies delightedly in return. “I hate to ask, but would you let me ride you? I need…”

What _exactly_ he needs is not something he knows yet, he realizes as he trails off. He needs to make his way toward the Divine Beasts, and then to the castle to save Suga. Who is being held captive by a being who Daichi couldn’t defeat the first time. 

Huh.

“I need weaponry,” he says decisively, though he’s not entirely sure what kind of weaponry he can use. “I need weapons and I need better clothes and I need… I need someone who can tell me exactly what happened one hundred years ago.”

Karasu stares at him for a moment.

Which is not _exactly_ the answer he was hoping for.

“I don’t suppose you know where I can find any of those, do you?”

Karasu snuffles, then turns her head toward her back. Looks back at Daichi, then her back again, as if to say, _well, what are you waiting for?_

He grins. “Thanks, Karasu.”

Daichi realizes just how _huge_ Karasu really is when he steps up to her side. Tentatively, he tangles a hand in her withers, then places another on her back. “This is gonna be uncomfortable for both of us,” he warns, rolling his shoulders. “Don’t move too much.”

He jumps as high as he can, essentially belly-flopping onto her back. They grunt in tandem, as he clumsily pulls himself onto her back. “I’ll get better at that,” he mumbles, trying not to freak out at just how high off the ground he is. Karasu could _kill_ him and it wouldn’t even be a challenge.

She whinnies, looking back at him again. Upon seeing that he’s mostly settled, she takes off at a trot. Daichi, not really knowing where she’s going or if he should try to stop her, lets her take the lead.

When she slows to a stop, Daichi can’t wipe the grin off his face.

They had been trotting for _so long_ , he had been beginning to wonder if maybe she was just celebrating having him back and not actually taking him anywhere. The grassy hills he had woken up in stretched practically to the horizon, so it had been easy to get lost, to wonder if they had been wandering in a circle that entire time.

But Karasu had had a destination in mind - this little village, tucked into this grove of trees. Torches light the path as she plods along. Daichi hesitantly waves at the people around him. The sun is beginning to set, casting everything in a cozy, orange glow. 

He’s just about to dismount and explore on foot, when he hears, “No _way._ ”

Daichi turns toward the voice.

Tall, lanky, with a wild stock of thick, black hair. About his age (minus one hundred years - it doesn’t count if you’re in a coma) and strong, a sword strapped to his hip. “No _freakin’_ way,” the guy says again, his voice a deep purr. There’s a grin on his face, wide and full of mischief. “Karasu… You’re riding Karasu, which means that… Sonuvabitch, the old hag was _right_!” None of the other villagers pay his loud language any mind. Maybe this kind of harassment is normal for him? But…

“My name is Kuroo Tetsurou,” he continues with a feline smile. Kuroo walks up and strokes Karasu’s nose and to Daichi’s immense surprise, she lets him. “And you must be Sawamura Daichi. How’d ya sleep?”

Daichi is not sure how to respond to that. Does Karasu think _this_ is the guy who Daichi needs to talk to to get what he needs? “Uh…”

“C’mon, my grandma is gonna want to meet ya.”

Sugawara Koushi is _tired_.

He looks around the corner. Nothing there. He dashes down the hallway, past the empty suit of armor, down the stairs. Something has changed. He can feel it.

The air is tense and thick with purplish blackish smoke. 

Vol is _angry._

Suga doesn’t know why.

Part of him is frustrated by this. Something had to go and piss Vol off and they didn’t bother to warn him? Even a quick, _hey we’re gonna piss off your captor - stock up on food so you don’t starve_ , would have been much appreciated. Better yet, they could tell him what they were doing that could piss off a being of such immense power and why. Maybe Suga could have helped. Sure, he’s really, impressively trapped but he’s not _powerless._

Another part of him is overjoyed. Something’s pissing Vol off. Vol, who has had his way, despite Suga’s best and most irritating efforts, of things for longer than Suga cares to think about, and something is screwing that up. Freaking _finally_. Something has changed. 

A third, tiny, truly pitiful part of him, for the first time in _years_ , is daring to hope. Not a lot, just a tiny, tiny bit. The tiniest, eensiest-weensiest bit. Something has changed. Maybe, that something is a person who Suga tucked away in a tiny little shrine hidden away in grassy hills. 

Maybe using his power to trap Vol and make both of their lives a living hell would be worth it. He had only done it to give him time. So he could heal, come back to him so Suga could apologize and give him the biggest hug and tell him to never do anything so recklessly brave and selfless ever again, because _how could he_ dare _leave Suga alone?_

He had _always_ given Suga the time he needed. Had given Suga _everything_ he needed, whenever he needed it. 

And now, the smallest, puniest, most infinitesimal part of him wonders if maybe, just maybe, Daichi has come back, to get him what he needs one more time.

 _Come back to me,_ _Daichi_ , the lonely, tired voice in his mind whispers. _Please_. _I need you. Come back to me_.

Checking once again that the coast is clear, he darts into the castle kitchens. He swears violently at the sight of the lizalfo, pulling the sword from the sheath on his back. He’s never been as good with swords - knives and bows have always suited him better, and he can make good use of an axe when given the opportunity - but swords litter the castle. Knives, bows, arrows, and axes are in shorter supply. He’s got every weapon he’s found stockpiled in his hideout. He’ll save them for the next time Vol tries to take him out personally. 

For a lizalfo, the sword will do.

He jumps out of the way as the lizalfo’s tongue darts at him. He slices at the tongue, and the lizalfo roars as he manages to cut part of it off. He grins, letting the lizalfo hop to get closer. He sloppily slices once, twice, pissing it off even further as he manages a nonlethal cut on its leg.

It presses closer still. Finally, it’s in range. Suga dashes forward, quicker than it can react, and buries the sword up to the hilt in its stomach. He heaves upward as the monster roars loudly, then falls lifeless to the ground. It disintegrates to monster ash a few moments later, leaving behind only a claw and a tooth.

He picks them both up - they’re both sharp and he thinks the tooth might have acidic properties if used correctly. He is always in need of sharp things.

Then he digs in the kitchen cabinets, looking for something to eat. There’s flour and a forgotten jug of water. He could make bread, but he’s not sure he has the time. He can take on one lizalfo, maybe two in a pinch. But lizalfos are not the most dangerous guards Vol has employed in this castle, and Suga is not arrogant enough to ignore that.

His stomach growls. He digs through the cabinets some more.

He finds wine, some rotten fruits and vegetables. He wishes, not for the first time and likely not the last either, that he knew how long it had been since he took Vol on, one on one. The spell seems to have kept him frozen in time, but it had not been kind enough to do the same for his food supply. 

If he has to cut a limb off a lizalfo and eat it before it bleeds out, he will.

Maybe monster ash can be made into a soup?

He shakes his head. Bread. He’ll try to make bread. If he’s sneaky about it, he can start the process, and while the dough is rising, he can cause problems in other parts of the castle and keep the monsters from figuring out what he’s doing. 

Then he can take a nap. Bake his bread, then pester the monsters a bit more. Kill a few more. Maybe steal one of their weapons. Some of the lizalfos carry these wicked looking spears, which make them pains in the ass to kill, but if he manages it, _he_ could be the pain in the ass to kill instead.

Sugawara Koushi takes great joy in being a pain in the ass, after all. His mother used to call him the Royal Pest, instead of the prince.

He mixes the flour and water, keeping an ear open for any noises. Some of the monsters that stalk the hall are practically silent and he can’t afford to be snuck up on and skewered.

Not when Vol is angry. Not when something has changed. 

Not when Daichi might be back. 

“HA!” The old woman, white hair just as wild and thick as Kuroo’s, cackles, pointing at Daichi. “I _told you_ , Tetsu, you bastard! I _told you_ ! The prince was right! Sir Sawamura has returned! Hell yeah! You owe me _two_ favors now!”

Kuroo groans. “Gran, how was _I_ supposed to know? He’s a century late. There were no signs he was gonna wake at all! Bo and I _went_ to that temple. It was sealed shut. There was no way to get out. He should have been-”

“HAHA YOU JUST DON’T WANT TO ADMIT YOU WERE WRONG!”

Daichi feels like he’s walked in on something personal. “I-”

“Shut up, you stupid old hag-” The words hold a shocking amount of affection. “-The Hero probably needs some help figuring out what’s going on and you’re like, the only one old enough to still have a damned clue.”

She hisses at him. “Dumbass, he's the Hero. What kind of help could I possibly give him?"

"Excuse me?" Daichi finally interrupts, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry for the intrusion. I certainly did not mean to cause a fuss. I was wondering-"

The old woman starts cackling all over again and Daichi can _feel_ her joints creak as she stands, hobbling over to him. She reaches up, patting him on the cheek, then pinching it tightly enough that Daichi gasps.

"You're just as cute as my momma told me you were!" She croons, weathered, leathery cheeks rosy. "She was always goin' on 'bout how adorable and genuine you were with everyone you met. 'Daichi's momma raised him right,' she was always sayin'." She pauses to giggle again, tugging on Daichi's cheek. "And here y'are, treating crazies like me and this bastard here like gentlefolk. What a darling boy y'are."

"Gran, don't give him nerve damage. I could barely save you from the last guy you pissed off that way." Kuroo came forward, prying his grandmother's hand from Daichi's face with a certain amount of difficulty. "Besides," he eyes Daichi up and down. "He's definitely sexier than he is cute." Kuroo winks.

Daichi is decidedly overwhelmed. His face flares hot, and he does not know what to do with his hands. Maybe Karasu will hear his panic from outside and come save him.

There's the slap of skin on skin, and Kuroo's cheek now has a red handprint. Daichi blinks in alarm. Just how fast can she move?!

"Don't you go sexually harassing the Hero, Tetsurou. He did not sleep one hundred years to put up with your bullshit. He doesn't deserve it. Hell, half of us are still struggling to figure out what _we_ did to deserve it."

"Excuse me," Daichi tries again, trying to keep the fear out of his eyes. Miraculously, neither of the Kuroos interrupt him this time, and he continues. "I really could use some assistance. The shrine has erased my memories and I don't… I only barely know what I'm supposed to do. If you… if your mother knew me one hundred years ago, maybe you could tell me what she told you?"

That stops Kuroo's grandmother, wiping the smile from her face. "You… don't remember? Anything?"

He shakes his head. "I… I got a few memories from a statue and a summary of what happened from Queen Sugawara but I have… lots of holes. I remember Karasu, kinda…"

She smiles, but this time it's warm and fond. "Then I imagine you're a bit overwhelmed by all this mess."

Daichi nods emphatically and she lets out a laugh. "I'm Kuroo Emi. I married into this family about fifty years ago, then I gave birth to this ungrateful rat's mother." She gestures to Kuroo, who nods without complaint. "What memories have you regained so far?"

Daichi summarizes each memory, careful not to leave out any details. Her eyes go soft when he describes the one with Doctor Kuroo.

"Doctor Kuroo was my father," she says eventually. "He was a good man. After Koushi… got trapped..." even now, her eyes get misty talking about this. Daichi's heart squeezes, for her and for her father and for Suga. "... He searched day and night for an answer, a way to save Prince Koushi or a way to speed your recovery along… I was a young girl at the time, and I helped as best I could, but there was nothing anyone could do. Without a slate like the one on your hip there, there was no getting into the shrine, and Koushi had left the last complete slate with you. Without you, there was no hope of defeating Vol."

"Excuse me if this is… insensitive," Daichi says quietly, "but _why_ am I the hero? Why can I defeat Vol and no one else can? Surely, in one hundred years, there must have been someone else who can do what I can do?"

She seems to realize something then, her eyes going wide. "Prince Koushi must have hidden it…" she murmurs. "Your sword. It can carve the darkness that empowers Vol. It is the only weapon in Haikyuu that can do so. No one else can draw the blade. It will burn through any material, if pulled from its sheath. If, by some miracle, you withstand the burning, it will become immaterial. No one knows how you are able to wield it. My mother said you said the blade called to you. It sings in your ear a song no one else can hear. You and it are bound by something beyond our understanding."

"Oh," Daichi says softly. "That… that's what one of the memories was. Me finding that sword."

She smiles and nods. "The way you wielded the blade was akin to magic, according to my mother."

His eyebrows fly up. "No pressure, then."

She laughs, loud and clear. "So you _are_ planning on finding the blade, returning the Divine Beasts to our side, and defeating Vol?"

Daichi smiles weakly. "Something like that. Haven't exactly figured out all the details yet… I've only been awake about a day."

Kuroo whistles. "You made it from the shrine to here in a day? You must not have taken a single break."

Daichi pales at an alarming rate. "I forgot to take breaks. Karasu went the whole distance, carrying me, without a single break. Shit, I'm a bad horseman."

Both Kuroos laugh, but it's the younger who responds. "Man, I don't know if you know this, and I mean this in the best way possible, but your horse is a _monster_. It's the same horse you rode one hundred years ago. It hasn't aged a single day. Dozens of people from this village and others have tried to tame her and take her home but she has more stamina than any beast I've ever seen. Whatever you did to her back then, it's held up well. She's… she's incredible, Sawamura."

"Tetsu works at the stable, so he sees a lot of horses," Emi says proudly. "I would trust his word. If he thought you were mistreating your horse, he would let you know."

Kuroo nods. "If you were mistreating Karasu, _she_ would let you know. That horse can communicate with people better than any other animal I've seen. She won't put up with any unnecessary bullshit."

Daichi sighs in relief. "I didn't think she seemed particularly tired… I'll apologize later."

Kuroo grins. "Apologize to your horse?"

He meets his stare evenly. "Yes."

His grin grows. "I think I like you, Sawamura."

Daichi smiles. "Daichi is fine."

Emi looks from Daichi, to Kuroo, to Daichi again. "Sawamura," she starts, _completely_ disregarding what Daichi just said, "do you happen to have a need for companions on this journey?"

Blinking in confusion, Daichi stutters, "Uh… maybe? I don't really know. I don't have money or anything, so I can't pay for anyone to help me."

Confusion flashes across Emi's face too, then she laughs. "Oh, honey, I don't mean for you to _hire_ someone. I mean friends to help you along. You've got quite the task on your shoulders after all and you're quite young, sweetheart."

" _Oh,_ " Daichi smiles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't really have any friends. If I did, they're probably all dead now."

Now _that's_ a depressing thought that he hadn't considered until right this moment. Shit. Did he have a family? Siblings? 

"Daichi, I'm _hurt_ ," Kuroo whines, draping an arm over his shoulders. "We're not friends?"

Emi grins. "Tetsu gets my meaning."

Apparently, her meaning was not as clear as she thought it was, because Kuroo stiffens. "Wait, you're suggesting _I_ go with him? The Hero? On his legendary quest? _Me?_ "

Daichi is glad that he's not the only one who is surprised.

"The two of you get along and have mutually beneficial skills. Tetsu is good with horses and has money to spare. Sawamura is a good swordsman with only a vague idea of what he's supposed to do."

“This symbiotic relationship sounds very heavily one-sided…” Daichi murmurs, scratching his head. “I really don’t have anything to offer. I can’t teach you anything or get you any kind of reward. My possessions are literally limited to the clothes on my back and Karasu. And if I’m being honest, I think I’m more Karasu’s than Karasu’s mine.”

“Honestly,” Kuroo says with a lazy grin, “that’s more enticing than if you offered me money or fame.”

“Tetsu is not a fan of business relationships. Or business.” Emi glances at him. “And to be frank with you, I’m not sure he’s a fan of relationships either.”

Kuroo’s grin drops. “Why do you care if I’m in a relationship?” He grumps. “I’m still young! Great grandbabies might still happen!”

Emi eyes him. “That’s not _remotely_ what I’m worried about.”

The two stare at one another, golden eyes bright with irritation and sharp with intelligence. He can see the resemblance to Doctor Kuroo now, the vaguely feline way they go still with tension. They seem perfectly content to not move until the other breaks.

However, _Daichi_ does not like the tension in the air, and decides to do something about it. “Kuroo, do you know where any of the Divine Beasts are? It’s starting to sound like they should be my first step.”

He doesn’t break eye-contact with his grandmother, even for a moment. “I’ve got a buddy up north who practically lives on top of one. You’ll like him. He’ll be able to give you more information about it. His great grandfather was actually one of the champions chosen to drive them the first time.”

“Will he be willing to help a stranger like me?”

For that, Kuroo’s eyes flick over to him, unblinking, then back to Emi. “He’s the most sociable guy I know. If he doesn’t like you or want to help you, then you don’t deserve to be liked or helped.”

It settles something restless in Daichi, having something vaguely resembling a plan of action. It’s far from concrete and definitely not perfect, but it’s _something_. Something they can work towards. 

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow, Kuroo?” He asks, shifting his weight from side to side. Despite having already slept for one hundred years, he’s tired and besides, sleeping for the night will give Karasu a well-earned break.

“Where are you going?” Emi interrupts, before Kuroo can answer. “You are more than welcome to stay with us tonight.”

“I couldn’t possibly intrude! I can camp!”

Emi rolls her eyes so hard, Daichi worries about them popping out of their sockets. “Tetsu, set out another mattress for the Hero. Get him a bowl of that soup that’s over the fire. Then, if you would dig in my pouch and get the boy a few coins to spend as he wishes, that would be perfect.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes too, looking remarkably like his grandmother as he does so, then wanders away to do as she asked.

“Tetsu has no one but me,” Emi whispers softly when he’s gone. “Both his parents died when he was itty bitty. He has few friends in the neighborhood, and little ambition to make more friends. I don’t mean to push him on you, but I hope that even if you do not stay side by side until the end, you make Tetsurou make some friends. He is going to need people when I pass, whether or not the bastard wants to admit it.”

Daichi’s heart twists. He wishes _he_ had someone looking out for him like that. Without Suga, he wouldn’t have _anyone_ who knew him personally, and Suga might not even survive. He could die any moment, and Daichi wouldn’t even know. He takes Emi’s hand in both of his, squeezing gently.

“I will do my best.”

She smiles warmly. “That’s all I can ask.”

Kuroo returns, handing Daichi a small pouch that jingles with coins. “Your spending money.” He shakes his head. “I fail to see why _he_ gets an allowance, when I have never gotten one, but whatever, Gran. Play favorites. I see how it is.”

Emi is across the room, pinching his cheek before Daichi can blink. “You are such a _brat_ , Tetsurou,” she hisses. She’s smiling though, and so is Kuroo, though his face is also twisted in discomfort. “Obviously, Sawamura is my favorite because he’s not _rude_.”

It’s in this moment Daichi realizes he may have bitten off more than he can chew.

Suga breathes a sigh of relief. The bread is done. 

He is _so tired_.

Carefully, though his hands tremble, he cuts a slice of the bread free, before wrapping the rest of the loaf in a cloth. He won’t be able to go back to the kitchen for a while, and it will be a _long_ time until the monsters let their guard down again after all the trouble he caused them this afternoon.

At least he had fun. Not that brutal murder is usually fun, but treating the lizalfos as moving targets for the bookshelves he shoved down the stairs and the chests of drawers he heaved over railings was immensely cathartic. Granted, the lizalfos didn’t seem to agree, but 

He takes a tentative bite of his slice. It’s not perfect, certainly not _good_ by most standards - it _is_ just plain bread, made from only flour and water, after all - but it doesn’t taste bad and his stomach growls for more immediately. He scarfs it down, then glances at the pile of blankets and curtains and table-cloths. He should sleep. He needs to sleep.

Will sleep bring nightmares tonight? Or will sleep be blank darkness that swaddles him in warmth and a delusion of safety?

Does he care? Does it matter? He’s living a nightmare now. Why shouldn’t sleep be any different?

Will sleeping break the spell, break the constant drain of his power containing Vol? _That_ matters. He does care about that. He can’t be doing this for nothing.

His knees threaten to give out beneath him as he stands, making his way over to the nest of fabric. Carefully, he organizes them how he likes them, pushing the comforter he stole from one of the dukes’ bedrooms up to be his pillow, and tucking the curtain from the nursery around his torso. The towels from his on-suite bathroom are tucked around his legs.

Once he’s completely settled, he stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t do this every night, but he does this a lot of them.

He starts to pray.

He doesn’t know who he’s praying to - he’s honestly not sure if it matters who’s listening, as long as _someone_ or _something_ is. Somewhere.

_Please, Daichi, wake up. Please. I need you._

_I miss you._

It’s in the midst of such a prayer, rambling and desperate, that he falls asleep. 

_He knows he’s dreaming. The woods are familiar, but not within the cage he’s created for Vol and himself - he wants to place where he’s seen these trees before, with their tall, looming blue-green trunks and wants to recall where the tiny, glowing blue rabbits with two tails and four eyes are in his memories, but something drags his attention away before he can figure it out._

_Someone._

_His jaw drops. Even in his worst nightmares, he hasn’t seen his face in_ so long _. Suga has been waiting, hoping, praying for him for_ so, so long _._

 _This is a dream. He knows this. There’s no two ways about it. This is a dream, not remotely real, just a figment of his imagination and he’ll wake up and he’ll be back in that castle with those awful, reeking monsters and the terrifyingly powerful Vol and he_ knows _this, but he also knows that back, those shoulders, the way his hands clench into fists when he’s nervous, the way he always has his weight balanced on the balls of his feet, even though he was never taught that because he wasn’t raised a warrior but swordsmanship is in his blood, every ounce the legend meant to wield the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness -_

 _“Daichi?” he calls, voice cracking. He hasn’t even turned yet, all he can see is Daichi’s broad back, but tears are already welling in his eyes, his throat choked. This isn’t real, he reminds himself, but he doesn’t care. He wants to see Daichi_ so _bad, if he doesn’t_ right now _, it might kill him._

_And Daichi, having never failed to save him before and doesn’t seem to intend to start today, looks over at him, eyes bright with curiosity, and when he sees Suga, he startles._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi prepares for the first leg of his journey.

_ Daichi gazes at Suga for a long moment, unable to speak. He knows this is a dream - this isn’t where he went to sleep, and Kuroo is nowhere in sight. _

_ “Prince Sugawara Koushi,” he murmurs, scanning his scrawny, bedraggled form. It seems weird that the first time he would see the prince again after so long is in a dream, where he isn’t real. Where neither of them are real. _

_ Tears well in Suga’s eyes. They glisten in the mysterious light of the dream, despite there being no visible lightsource anywhere. “You’re not real,” Suga whimpers, biting his lip. His whole body trembles. “You look so real. I’ve missed… I’ve missed you, so bad… and now you’re standing here in front of me and… and you’re not real…” _

_ Eyes widening, Daichi blurts, “But I  _ am  _ real, and  _ you’re _ not.” _

_ Suga pauses. “What?” He sniffles, taking a cautious step closer. _

_ “I… I’m dreaming, and you… you’re the not-real one.” He gets less confident the longer he thinks about it, because maybe his mind really is trying to completely confuse him. “I… I just… You’re… I’m…” He stammers into silence, unable to properly voice what he’s thinking. _

_ Slowly, Suga’s eyes widen too. “Daichi, where are you right now?” _

_ Daichi scans his surroundings - true to regular dreams, the clearing they’re in is vaguely familiar, but not right. Not real. He can’t put his finger on quite  _ why _ he recognizes it though, try as he may. _

_ “No, no, I mean… if you’re sure you’re  _ not  _ a dream, and this is… is some sort of weird lucid dream, where are you? In the real world? And where am I?” _

_ “Um…” He tries to think if either of Kuroos told him the name of the village they were in. If they did, he has no recollection of it. “I’m staying with the Kuroos right now. They’re helping me come rescue you.” _

_ Suga’s whole face lights up. “Doctor Kuroo!? You - you found him? He’s okay?” _

_ “Actually… um…” Daichi  _ hates _ to bear bad news, especially when Suga deserves anything  _ but _. “I’m staying with his daughter and his great grandson.” _

_ The blood drains from Suga’s face. Daichi takes a step toward him, fearing his collapse. “Great… grandson?” _

_ “I… I slept for one hundred years, Suga.” _

_ “One hundred years?” His voice is a whisper. _

_ “I made you wait far too long, but I’m coming to save you. I promise. You’re not fighting alone anymore.” _

_ Slowly, Suga shakes his head and his eyes raise to meet Daichi’s. “You… You are real… You’re awake.” Tears well in his eyes once again, and his lips tremble. “I never… I never would have guessed… one hundred years. I didn’t know about Doctor Kuroo, and I… you…” _

_ Daichi is surprised to realize he’s choked up too. “I’m real. I’m awake. I’m coming, Suga. I’ve got… got a plan. I’m going to free the Divine Beasts, then we’ll tag-team the shit out of Vol. You’re not alone.” _

_ Like the dawn after a night of tumultuous storms, Suga’s smile breaks through the tears. It’s oozing relief and joy and hope. “Can I hug you, Daichi?” He asks, and Daichi just nods. _

_ Suga takes him down in a flying tackle, but since it’s a dream, the impact doesn’t hurt. Daichi just wraps his arms around Suga and squeezes him tight. “I missed you,” Suga whispers into his shoulder. They’re immaterial, painfully not real, but Daichi pretends he can’t tell. _

_ “Kuroo Tetsurou, the great grandson, is going to take me to one of his friends. Apparently, he’s the great grandson of a Champion? He lives really close to one of the Divine Beasts, so that’s the one I’ll take on first.” Suga snuggles even closer at Daichi’s soft words, sobbing into Daichi’s chest. “I don’t know how much you and Vol interact, but it might get angry when we do, so please be careful.” _

_ He isn’t sure what gives it away, but he can feel the waking world pulling him back. “Don’t give up, Suga. I’m headed your way. You’re not alone.” _

Daichi wakes to Kuroo shaking his shoulder. In the cool light of dawn, Kuroo looks even wilder than he does in the day. “Daichi, you okay? You were talking and tossing around a lot in your sleep. Shit, are those tears? Are you good, man?”

All he can do for a long moment is blink at him, as he tries to decide whether or not to tell Kuroo. Finally, he says, “I… I met with Suga. In a dream. He knows we’re coming.”

Kuroo gapes. “Oh. Right.” He shakes his head, slowly. “Right. Talking about beings whom the laws of time and logic don’t apply to. Right. Okay.” He looks at Daichi again. “What’d the prince have to say?”

“Not… not much… He was pretty emotional.” Daichi looks down at his lap, at his arms. He swears he can still feel the warmth of Suga pressed against him. “Finding out I was really awake again, and that one hundred years have passed since we last saw each other was a lot for him to take in, I think.”

Kuroo whistles. “Shit… Yeah, that’d be pretty overwhelming.” He hesitates. “Maybe not as overwhelming as waking up in a strange shrine with no memories, of course, but uh… yeah. That’s some heavy crap to handle in a dream.”

Daichi nods. Then shakes his head. “He knows we’re coming, but he looked like hell, so we need to hurry. Your friend who’s the great grandson of the Champion? How far is he from here?”

Kuroo frowns, thinking for a long moment. “Going at a regular pace, on a regular horse? Maybe two days, probably three. On Karasu?” He smirks. “Maybe a day, probably two.”

“Then we’d better get going. I want to make it in two. Does your boss at the stable rent out horses?” When Kuroo nods, he continues. “We need to prioritize stamina over raw speed. While you sort that out, I’m going to find the blacksmith. I need a sword, or a bow, or something.”

Daichi stands, moving to dress, when he realizes that Kuroo is staring at him in nothing short of awe. “What is it?”

“You want me to come with you? Even though I’ll slow you down? I was thinking about this last night after you went to bed, and I could just give you a letter as proof you know me...”

Daichi smiles. “I want you to come. I… I like the company and having someone who knows more about this world than I do by my side will be important. You’re not going to slow me down enough that it would outweigh the value of your advice and knowledge. Unless you don’t want to come…?”

Kuroo grins. “It  _ has _ been a while since I’ve seen Bo… And he  _ would _ be pretty offended if he found out you offered to let me tag along and I opted out…”

Chuckling, Daichi says, “So, really, it’s the smart choice for you to tag along. I would hate to offend anyone.”

“Except Vol.”

The smile falls from Daichi’s features. “Vol can choke on a rotten coconut.”

Slinging an arm around his shoulders and leading him out into the living room, Kuroo purrs, “Agreed,” and plops down at the table for breakfast, which Rise has already set out for them. “Can’t wait to see that dickwad go down.”

Rise appears out of nowhere to slap Kuroo upside the head. “Do  _ not _ use that kind of foul language at my table. Just ‘cause you’re right does  _ not  _ make it appropriate.”

Kuroo snorts. "Wasn't it just last week you called Vol a fu-"

Rise doesn't dain to respond, but she does smack him on the back of the head. "Not outta your mouth at my table, bastard."

"I feel targeted." His pout doesn't appear to sway Rise any, but Daichi notices the extra dab of melted butter she puts on the breadroll she hands to him.

"So, you boys are leaving today?"

Both nod. "Daichi's gonna run and see the Himekawas, but then we’ll be on our way to Fukurodani.”

Daichi looks over at Kuroo. “Himekawas are the blacksmiths?”

He shrugs. “Himekawa Teika runs the blacksmith. Next door to the smithy, his wife, Himekawa Shina, is the local seamstress and runs the general goods store, and their son Aoi helps wherever he’s needed. So, long story short, yes, there is a Himekawa who is a blacksmith. But I thought you might also want to get some new clothes, as well as some supplies for the trip. Not that I’m not down for going in with nothing but the clothes on our backs, but seeing as you just rose from the nearly literal dead, I figured you might want to avoid going back to that for a while.”

“Sounds good to me.” Daichi cracks his back, then his shoulders and his neck. “Karasu never came into the stable last night, right?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “I woke up in the middle of the night and went to check on her, but she was nowhere to be found. I have no idea where she’s at.”

It’s Daichi’s turn to shrug. “She’ll probably come when I call.”

Chewing slowly, Kuroo considers. “That’s not very comforting.”

Daichi snickers. “She’s not exactly a typical horse, Kuroo. She’s my friend. She’ll come. Eventually. It’ll just be on her own terms.”

Kuroo does not look convinced. “Fine. But if you lost your legendary monster horse because you wouldn’t make her go in the stable, you can’t come crying to me.”

It turns out to be a non-issue. 

Eventually, they finish breakfast and finalize their plans for the day. The Kuroos say goodbye in their affectionate-yet-full-of-insults way and Rise pinches Daichi’s cheek again. She gives them both more coins to spend, worrying about how they’ll find clothes for the colder weather  _ and _ the warmer weather, after going on about how her sister’s husband’s brother’s cousin (Daichi is unsure how exactly reliable this information is, but Rise is very sure) said that there’s a Divine Beast terrorizing the population in the desert.

Finally, Daichi opens the front door to the Kuroo house, and Karasu’s face is the first thing he sees. Her giant hooves are planted firmly on the front step so she’s as physically close to the entry as she can get. Excitement glitters in her eyes.

He just about leaps out of his skin, before releasing a sigh of relief. “See?” He calls to Kuroo, who’s a few steps behind him. “Told ya.”

Kuroo grins. “Good. She’d be difficult to replace.” He ducks back into his room, shoving things in a satchel.

Karasu huffs, stamping one hoof, as if to say,  _ damn straight _ or possibly  _ hurry up _ .

“We’re hurrying,” Daichi soothes, running a palm down her long nose. Her fur is damp with the morning dew, and her mane has new knots in it. He wonders what she got up to last night. “There’s lots of logistics to consider when saving the world, Karasu,” he murmurs, other hand reaching up to scratch behind her ears. She must like it, because she presses her face into his chest to get closer. “Kuroo’s never saved the world before, and I don’t remember the one attempt I have under my belt. Be patient with us, alright? I’d like to just charge blindly in and get Suga out of there, but we need to think further ahead than that.”

She huffs again, nudging him a little too hard to be an accident.

“You’re a sassy fart, aren’t you?” He mumbles, shoving her back gently. “Now, c’mon. We’ve got some shopping to do, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Kuroo comes out a moment later. “Let’s save the stable for last. That way, we’re not dragging an unfamiliar horse around town for too long. I’d much rather get to know my steed in a quiet environment.”

“I thought you worked in the stable? Don’t you know all the horses?”

He shakes his head firmly. “No way. The stable is part of a web of stables across the continent. The idea is that frequent travelers can register with this group, and for a small fee, they’ll get free boarding at any of these stables. It was a good idea that’s been pretty hard to implement, seeing as knowing who does and doesn’t have a pass can be pretty confusing, but for the most part it works alright.

“Some horses are constantly shifting around to other stables, some were dropped off years ago and have grown old in one stable because the owner never made their way back. Occasionally, accidents happen and foals are born. The foals, since they were unintentional and tracking down the parents’ owners is a pain in the ass for everyone involved, are given to the network of stables, and are transferred around as needed. Nekoma, conveniently, is housing one such offspring. He’s a gelding, pretty young and energetic, so I’m hoping my boss’ll let me take him, since he’s got probably the best chance of keeping up with Karasu.”

Daichi frowns, nodding. “That makes sense… I don’t know how Karasu responds to other horses, so we might need to come up with a backup plan.”

Kuroo sours. "If she doesn't like him, she can carry us both."

Karasu snorts and meets Kuroo's gaze for a long moment.

Kuroo looks away first, which makes Daichi laugh. With one last scratch behind her ears, Daichi moves past her. "Himekawas are that way, you said?" He gestures down the road.

"Yeah… are you gonna want tack as well? Because you might want to stop at Fukunaga's if you do. He's the best leather-worker in town, and he owes me three favors, so I'd be able to get you a discount."

"Three?" That seems like a lot to Daichi. What exactly did Kuroo do to earn these favors?

Snickering, Kuroo places a hand on his chest. "I don't like your accusatory tone, Daichi."

"I haven’t accused you of anything yet,” Daichi snorts, smirking. He makes his way toward the sound of clanging metal. 

The smithy is quaint, all well-worn stone and thick cedar beams. Three blazing fires are visible from the entry, which is a large arch of stone, accented with metal accessories. 

A young guy with round brown eyes and strawberry blond hair smiles brightly as he approaches. “Good morning! You must be new around here! I’m Himekawa Aoi, but basically everyone around here calls me Aoi! Welcome to the Himekawa business! What can I help you with today?” His voice is soft and innocent. Daichi likes him immediately.

“I was hoping to get a sword and shield, maybe a bow? I’m making my way across the kingdom and I… um… lost all of my equipment.” Daichi is quickly realizing that there’s no easy way to slip  _ i almost died and spent one hundred years comatose and have zero clue where the hell crown prince sugawara koushi put my stuff  _ into casual conversation with people who don’t recognize his horse on the spot.

Aoi giggles. “I’ve definitely been there. I went hunting once and a lizalfos snuck up on me. I dropped  _ everything _ and just about wet myself in my desperation to escape.” He walks over to a wall of swords and knives of all different lengths and shapes. “Point to ones you’re interested in. It’s important that the blade feels right for you, so don’t feel bad about trying lots of different kinds! My dad makes all the weaponry and he’s super talented, so you can’t go wrong.”

“He never mentions how talented he is at axes and shields,” a much deeper voice calls, and Daichi turns to see what is undoubtedly Aoi’s father. Aoi has his eyes, his hair, and the set of his shoulders. The older Himekawa’s jaw is broader than Aoi’s, and covered in a grey-speckled beard. “He’s always braggin’ ‘bout his old man, but never mentions his own skills. Humble rat.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and Aoi’s giggle tells Daichi this isn’t serious.

“That’s because they aren’t that good!” Aoi whines nervously, his giggles definitely ruining the effect. “Your blades are so much better! You have to scrap way less blades than I do! Only, like,  _ one _ in ten of my axes are worth anything!”

Himekawa Teika walks over, pulling his son by his neck and knuckling the top of his head while Aoi squeals. “He’s always talkin’ shit,” Teika grins. “Don’t mind his self-deprecating bullcrap. We’re workin’ on getting him a sense of superiority, but he’s not buyin’ it. Anyway, I’m Himekawa Teika. Most folks call me Teika. What kinda blade are ya lookin’ for?”

“Umm… A sword… Similar stylistically to the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness? If you’ve seen that blade?”

Himekawa releases Aoi, smile dropping from his face. “An interesting request.”

Daichi smiles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… That’s kinda vague, isn’t it?” He has no idea what the blade really looks like, so he can’t even get more specific. He’s just about to take it back and point at the most basic sword on the wall - he’s apparently a master swordsman, if literally everyone is to be believed, but he likes the idea of relearning the basics.

Teika grins once again. “You’re lucky I happened to be raised on stories of that blade, so I’ve got a few blades modelled after it. Granted, I’ve never actually seen the weapon, few who are alive today have, but if my grandad was right, it should be pretty close.” He reaches beneath one of the large slab-rock tables and pulls a blade out. He hands it, grip first, to Daichi.

It’s not too long, perhaps a little longer than Daichi’s arm, the blade tapering to a fine point. Both sides of the blade are honed to a razor sharp edge. It’s well balanced, not too heavy and not too light. It feels right in Daichi’s hand. He grins. “How much for it?”

Teika and Aoi slap hands. “First try!” Aoi cheers.

“Three gold pieces,” Teika says confidently. Daichi pulls out the coins, and Teika hands him a leather belt and sheath. “These come with the blade.”

“You said a shield too, right?” Aoi is hopping from foot to foot in excitement. “I made one based off of the legend of the hero’s shield! Do you want to see it?” Then he pauses. “Well… it’s designed after the song, so I guess it might not be super accurate, and I totally understand if you don’t-”

“Lay it on me,” Daichi interrupts with a gentle smile. He slips the belt on, clipping the sheath to it and slipping the blade in. “If the hero bore a shield like it, it must be pretty effective.”

Teika gives him an affectionate wink as Aoi dashes off to the corner to grad the shield.

The shield, Daichi realizes, is far closer to the original than Aoi realizes.

The mere shape of it makes Daichi’s head hurt, the three triangles emblazoned on the front not helping at all. He doesn’t even have to hold it to know that that is what he’s buying. He forces his lips into a smile. “What price?”

Aoi positively beams. “Two gold pieces and a silver, please!”

Daichi hands over the coins, leaning the silver shield against his legs. He forces himself not to look at it. Not yet. “Do you have bows and arrows here?”

“Longbow or recurve?”

Daichi had not thought that far ahead. “Recurve, please.”

Aoi nods dutifully, dashing off to retrieve the weapon. Teika turns to Daichi. “Where are you headed? Most people around here don’t need this much gear.”

“Well…” Daichi chuckles awkwardly. “Um… Fukurodani first.”

Teika frows, thick brows furrowing. “Isn’t that where that giant beast is dive bombing people? I heard that all them harpies had to move underground.”

Daichi blinks, and pretends he knew that, nodding. “I’m… uh… going to try and… well… get the beast to… to uhh… stop doing that.”

Teika stares at him a moment, then cackles. “You’re funny!” When Daichi doesn’t laugh too, Teika pauses again. “You weren’t kidding.”

Daichi shakes his head. “No, sir.”

Cackling again, Teika runs a hand through his hair. “Damn, kid. Talk about guts. Good for you, trying to take care of business. But stay safe, ya hear? No shame in knowing your limits. And I spent a long ass time on that blade, and I can’t tell you how many hours my son poured into that shield. Don’t you waste our efforts.”

“Yes, sir,” Daichi grins. “Honestly, it’s a batshit crazy idea, but I’m sticking with it.”

Teika laughs even harder. “At least you’re self-aware, kid.”

He  _ briefly _ considers mentioning he’s literally at  _ least _ five decades older than this man, so “kid” probably isn’t an appropriate term for him, but he decides against it as Aoi skips back up to them.

After he tests the draw weight and takes a couple practice shots at a target with the sleek recurve bow, he pays for the bow, a quiver, and three dozen arrows. He doesn’t think he’ll need this many before they’ll reach some place to restock, but he figures it’d be better to have more than he needs than to need more than he has.

“Stop by the store next door for everything else you could possibly need,” Teika says with a wave. “My wife is excellent at helping travellers.”

“That’s next on my list,” Daichi grins with a return wave. “Thank you both for all of your help!”

He steps out of the smithy, then pauses, trying his best to ignore the pain as he examines the shield a little closer.

Silver, with no decoration, it feels somehow more lifeless than the niggling feeling in the back of Daichi’s mind seems to remember. Less colorful. There’s a beautifully engraved bird along the bottom half, with widespread wings and sharp talons. The triangle design is familiar too, though he’s seen that more frequently already, so it’s hardly surprising. It’s the perfect size, and surprisingly light. The straps fit comfortably on his arm. He hooks it on his quiver, as Teika and Aoi had shown him, then turns toward the connected shop.  _ Himekawa General _ says the sign above the door.

Stepping through the threshold, the smell of baking bread and the sizzling of meat on a fire greets Daichi. It smells  _ delicious _ inside, and the space is alight with the warm glow of the morning sun. There’s fresh fruits and vegetables on shelves, with racks displaying tunics and trousers and coats and cloaks of all sorts. Thick rugs with bright colors, reds and greens and blues, cover the wooden floors. 

“Good morning!” A feminine voice calls, and Daichi looks up.

Himekawa Shina has all the features Aoi has but Teika doesn’t, the softer jawline and the round, brown eyes. Her hair is a dark brown, waves that make her hair look windblown. Her apron is covered in flour, as are her arms up to her elbows. This does not, however, stop her from waving, creating a cloud of flour.

“Morning,” Daichi smiles, as Shina tries to hide how much she’s coughing. “Are you Himekawa Shina? I’m told she’s the one to talk to if someone’s trying to get ready for travelling.”

Finally, the flour dissipates, and Shina nods, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “My Teika told you that, didn’t he? He’s always telling people exactly what they want to hear… he’s a merchant through and through! He would have been wonderful in a market.” She wistfully looks down at the bread dough she’s kneading.

Daichi frowns. “Aren’t there markets around here? I know it’s not a  _ huge _ town, but… I dunno, I guess… I thought there would be at least some trade activity.”

“Round here, the monsters are just bad enough that we can’t justify the risk. They only get worse as you get closer to the castle, which means inter-town trade is almost non-existent right now. Nekoma, of course, isn’t very close to any other towns either, which makes it all the more difficult to get something started. But that’s okay!” Shina claps her hands, wincing as once again, she’s obscured by a cloud of flour. “We’re doing just fine! And we have lots of travelling goods! What in particular are you looking to stock up on?”

He ends up purchasing many fruits and vegetables - apples and carrots and potatoes, primarily - and some loaves of bread. He also buys three new tunics and pairs of trousers. She even has a pair of boots his size - apparently the last traveller that came through traded them in for three apples, which was just strange enough that Shina remembers it - so he buys them too.

Kuroo joins him just as he’s finishing up. “Fukunaga’s?” He asks, by sneaking up behind Daichi and putting his hand on Daichi’s shoulder.

Daichi shoves him off. “Yes. Especially with all of this stuff, We’ll need tack, and good tack if I’m going to convince Karasu to wear it. Are you  _ sure _ you’re going to be able to get a discount?”

A cheshire cat grin. “Absolutely.”

They cross the road, and Kuroo leads the way into the leather shop.

Saddles and bridles cover every surface, coating the room in warm browns and blacks. “Tetsurou!” A lady calls from the back of the store, rushing forward to give Kuroo a tight hug and a smacking kiss on the cheek. “It’s been too long! Shouhei has been complaining about how you don’t stop by enough!”

“Lies,” grumbles the lanky guy who wanders out, cleaning a bridle. “Kuroo’s a cheater and I don’t like him.” He elegantly flips Kuroo off.

The lady snorts, covering her mouth daintly. “Shouhei!” She giggles. “Be kind to your friend! Tetsurou is a perfectly lovely young man!” She turns to Kuroo, grinning dazzlingly. “Don’t mind him. He’s just being petty. He’s something of a poor loser. Come now, introduce us to your friend here!”

Kuroo slings an arm around Daichi’s shoulders. “This is Daichi. He needs some tack for his monster horse.”

Daichi elbows him sharply. “She’s not a monster horse! She’s just… big. Otherwise, she’s a perfectly regular horse with perfectly regular needs. It’s not like she’s a predator or anything!”

“Did you miss the whole  _ she’s been alive for one hundred years  _ thing?” Kuroo hisses, clutching his side. “Or the  _ insane  _ stamina she has? Or the fact that no one in one hundred years has come close to riding her, and you rode from the shrine to Nekoma on your first try without any tack or breaks?”

“What are you two mumbling about?” The woman asks from where she had bustled away to find the appropriate tack. “Just how many hands is your horse?”

“Eighteen hands? Maybe a little more?” He looks to Kuroo for confirmation.

“I probably guess nineteen or just shy of twenty.”

The woman straightens, visibly surprised and maybe a touch impressed. “Goodness me, monster horse indeed. We have a couple saddles that have girths and stirrups long enough for horses that huge, so you’ll have to tell me more about what you like for saddles.”

“It’s for long stretches of travel, mainly, so something comfortable to sit in,” Daichi says carefully, thinking over his words. “Also, we’re going to need saddle bags as well, so-”

“I’ve got the perfect set for you!” The woman twitters, clapping her hands in excitement. She dashes off to grab it, leaving Kuroo and Daichi alone with Shouhei.

Kuroo holds out his fist, and Shouhei bumps it without hesitation. “How’s the work?” Kuroo drawls.

He looks up from the bridle for a moment, then back down. “Still think you cheated.”

Kuroo snickers. “How can one cheat at hunting? We were on opposite sides of the mountain! There’s no way I could have hunted more deer than you  _ and _ sabotaged you!”

“It’s the only explanation!” Shouhei snaps, but Daichi can see the glimmers of a smile at the corners of his lips. “I got screwed over!”

“Maybe the gods just love me more,” Kuroo sighs, placing his hand over his heart. “I  _ am _ pretty remarkable, after all.”

“Remarkably  _ lucky _ .”

“Blessed. I’m blessed by the gods, Fukunaga. Just admit it.”

“I’m not doing this with you.” Shouhei turns from Kuroo to Daichi, scanning him up and down. “What’s your deal? Where’d you get a horse that big? And why are you hanging out with this cheater?”

“I did  _ not _ cheat!”

“Um… I’m just passing through. I don’t know the area very well, and Kuroo was the first to volunteer to show me around. My horse is… a long-time friend, actually,” Daichi smiles lopsidedly. “She’s just… really big. She’s really pretty normal other than that.”

Shouhei’s eyes narrow for a moment. “I don’t know if I believe you.” There’s a tense moment of silence. “But I don't think it matters. I like you better than Kuroo anyways. Beware, he’s good at picking fights. And he has  _ no _ social boundaries to speak of.”

“Both of those are  _ lies _ !” Kuroo cries out.

“I’ve already seen his lack of social boundaries, but the picking fights thing is good to know,” Daichi murmurs, acting as though he’s sincerely considering this problem. “Kuroo, you’ll have to try your best to turn the fight-starting instinct off. We can’t waste time on stupid brawls.”

Kuroo pouts. “I don’t like this conversation.”

Daichi grins, patting him on the back. “Figures.”

The woman comes back now, bearing a huge saddle and bridle. “This was designed by my father’s father for the hero’s horse!” She grunts, straining to get the saddle onto the counter. “The prince had said the hero would return, and my father wanted to be ready to do his part! Then, as the decades passed and the hero did not return, my father decided to sell it, but no one has a horse big enough to justify this kind of weight!” She grins, running a hand gently over the shiny leather. Clearly, despite its age, it had been well cared for. “I’m happy to see it sold, to see it used. My grandfather would want a young man like yourself to use it, so long as you do good in the world, hmm?”

Daichi’s eyes rove over the triangle patterns on the seams, and the bird stitched across the saddle seat, matching his shield. “It’s gorgeous,” he says eventually. “How much for it?”

“Mrs. Fukunaga, you should come see the horse he’s planning on putting this saddle on first,” Kuroo interrupts, winking at Daichi. Shouhei looks decidedly suspicious. “How often do you get to see a horse this big?”

She giggles, but allows Kuroo to loop his arm with hers and lead her toward the door.

“Would you call her, Daichi?” He winks again.

Daichi shrugs, and follows them out. Once again, however, calling Karasu is not necessary, as she is quite literally waiting right outside the door for them.

Mrs. Fukunaga  _ gasps _ . She looks from Daichi to Karasu, to Daichi again. “ _ You’re _ the hero? Sir Sawamura… You’ve returned?!” Tears well in her eyes, and before Daichi can blink, she’s sobbing in Kuroo’s arms. “It wasn’t all for nothing,” she blubbers.

Daichi doesn’t know how to respond. “I’m sorry for making everyone wait, ma’am.” He keeps his voice quiet. He suspects it might not be the best idea for  _ all _ of Nekoma to know who he is. At least, not yet. “It was… not my intention.”

She grins at him, nose running. “The tack is yours! Free of charge! It’s what my grandfather would have wanted! Thank you, Sir Sawamura.  _ Thank you _ , for coming to my shop. Thank you for returning. There is hope once again.”

Karasu whinnies excitedly, prancing in place. Her joy is palpable as she nuzzles Mrs. Fukunaga. Daichi smiles nervously. 

Hope.

That’s a pretty high expectation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet Bokuto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay listen this week has been The Worst for a variety of reasons on a variety of levels and i am Not Happy with this chapter but i wanted to get it out there, so i might go back and fix it later? idk... it's kinda filler but the next chapter should be more exciting :) hope you enjoy regardless!

They're not far out of town when Daichi urges Karasu to catch up to Kuroo. "What can you tell me about the Divine Beast near your friend?"

Kuroo hums. His horse, Koda, is already gasping and slathering at the bit, but Kuroo doesn't seem too concerned yet. "It's… it's been pretty rough for Bo. He's… I don’t know if anyone told you this, but Bokuto, and everyone who lives in Fukurodani basically, they’re harpies. Half birds, half humans. They’re a people that’s best suited to live up high, you know? They’re amazing hunters and super cool to see fly or fight. The… the Divine Beast… I think it’s name is… Vah Yamji… or something like that… anyway, it can also fly, and has been terrorizing the skies over Fukurodani basically since Vol and Prince Sugawara got locked into battle. It shoots anything that gets close. The Fukurodani people have all had to take refuge under ground, and a lot of their homes have been completely destroyed. They’ve had a rough go of things. Bo’s actually their first warrior in decades who’s tried to take it on.”

Daichi looks up hopefully. “How’s he fared?”

Kuroo snorts. “Not great. He’s their best warrior, for sure, but  _ no one _ knows how to take on a Divine Beast. They’re all massive, too, so simply knocking it out of the sky isn’t exactly an option, you know? It’d kill more people when it fell than it does from the sky already, not to mention the destruction to buildings and the landscape. Fukurodani is surrounded by mountains and dense forests, so crashing a giant mysteriously powered robot with unmatched firepower into the side of a mountain or the middle of a forest could be disastrous for even more people outside of just Fukurodani.”

“What has he tried so far?”

Kuroo shrugs, reaching forward to scratch at Koda’s neck. She has to canter to keep up with Karasu’s trot. Daichi wonders if two days of hard travel will not be too much to ask of the young mare. “I’m not entirely sure. I only talk to Bokuto every once in a while, and he gets down pretty fast when you talk about his failures. I know he’s tried a few different strategies though. Apparently, he thinks he saw a harpy on the Divine Beast? He’s been pretty relentless since then.”

“There’s someone up there?” Alarm shoots through Daichi. He had not counted on a hostage situation. 

“According to Bo. Apparently, Vah Yamji super screws up wind patterns and makes it really hard for harpies to get close. He thinks if someone a little too inexperienced tried to get close, it would be possible for them to get stranded there.”

“So… Not a hostage situation? Like, Vah Yamji didn't kidnap this person?” He’s going to have a mental breakdown one of these days. One more thing, and he’s gonna snap.

Kuroo shakes his head. “Divine Beasts don’t have the fine motor skills needed to take hostages like that and I  _ hope _ Vol doesn’t have that far of a reach. It’s probably not a hostage, but a stupid brave harpy.”

Daichi tries not to show his relief too obviously. “Okay… How long has that harpy been up there? Wouldn’t they have starved?”

Kuroo shrugs. “Bo said something about birds crashing into the Divine Beast, so they’re probably eating those? I don’t know if they can eat raw meat, but Bokuto seemed pretty sure they were still alive when I last talked to him.”

He hums. “This is gonna be a pain in the ass, isn’t it.”

Kuroo chuckles. “The whole way, undoubtedly.”

The cave maw is gaping, rudimentary defenses surrounding the entrance. He’s a little nervous about riding Karasu into a cave - she’s pretty large and also a horse, and horses and caves probably shouldn’t mix, but he doesn’t have to worry.

A loud voice, bright with excitement, cuts through the natural silence, “HEY HEY HEY!”

Kuroo perks up immediately, a wide grin covering his face. “OYA OYA OYA!”

Daichi almost falls off his horse as a ball of grey feathers tackles Kuroo off of Koda, who trots out of the way with a terrified whinny. Kuroo’s cackling, so he’s not too worried, but he hadn’t even seen where the ball of fluff came from. “Are you Bokuto Koutarou?” Daichi asks.

“HEY! BRO! You didn’t tell me you made a new friend! And  _ hey _ , you look kinda like how my gramps described the Hero!” Bokuto’s wide, golden eyes drift down to Karasu. “And  _ that _ is  _ definitely _ the Hero’s horse.” Bokuto punches Kuroo. “Ya didn’t  _ tell _ me you made friends with the Hero! Also, where’s the Sword that Seals Away the Darkness?”

“Yes, this is Bokuto Koutarou, descendant of the Bokuto who piloted the Divine Beast Vah Yamji,” Kuroo drawls, throwing an arm over Bokuto’s broad shoulders. “And Bo, this is Sawamura Daichi, in the flesh. My newest friend.”

Bokuto narrows his eyes at Kuroo. “I’m still your best friend, right?”

Kuroo smirks. “Duh, bro. You think I would replace you with this loser?” He sticks a thumb out at Daichi. “I have  _ standards _ , Bokuto.”

Daichi dismounts with a glare.

Bokuto snickers, seemingly convinced. “So, Sawamura Daichi, you’re probably not here to sight-see, right?”

“I wish,” Daichi chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. He points skyward, toward the giant flying mass. “I’m… hmm… I want to try to turn that Divine Beast back to our side.”

“HELL YEAH!” Bokuto cheers, but then stops, coming forward to inspect Daichi. “You don’t have wings.”

Daichi nods.

“Vah Yamji is airborne?”

He nods again.

“You can’t fly.”

Another nod.

“I’m a little confused… I don’t mean to be rude, but how do you plan on getting up there?”

“That’s what I was hoping to discuss with you, actually,” Daichi smiles sheepishly. “I figured someone with extensive experience with flying would have an idea.”

“You’re the only flying expert I know, Bo,” Kuroo grins, jostling Bokuto a little. “Think you can find a way to get the Hero on the Divine Beast?”

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto grins after a moment, “I love a challenge! We can figure this out! Let’s go talk to the elders! I’m not so good with history or… uh… planning things? I’m better at flying and fighting. The elders are super smart! They’ll know what to do!”

Daichi nods, relieved. “Thank you, Bokuto. I was also hoping to ask you about the Divine Beast itself. Kuroo says you’re one of the only warriors talented enough to get close.”

Feathers fluffing up in pride, Bokuto grins, letting out a hoot. “I am pretty great, aren’t I? Ask away, Hero!”

“Daichi is fine,” Daichi smiles, wincing as Bokuto throws an arm/wing around his shoulders and tugs him to his side, and the three of them walk deeper into the cave. The horses will probably stay close. Daichi chooses not to think about that. “I’ll start easy. What makes the Divine Beast so hard to board?”

The grin fades from his eyes. Intelligence and focus glimmer in his golden eyes. “Vah Yamji isn’t a bird or a harpy, or a bat or a keese. It looks like a bird, but what keeps it in the air are these giant spinning blades. If you get sucked into ‘em, you get ground up into mush! So, that’s one thing. Because of those blades, though, the air currents around Vah Yamji can be really unpredictable but also really strong, so it can totally throw you in a direction you didn’t want to go if you’re not super, super careful. On top of all that, Vah Yamji is actively trying to keep people from boarding it, so if you’re too close, it will deploy weapons to discourage you from gettin’ closer.”

Daichi chews on the inside of his cheek. “Have you successfully boarded Vah Yamji?”

Bokuto nods. “Once. Once you’re  _ on _ , it’s not so bad. It doesn’t really seem to have too many on-surface weapons. A few mini guardians, I guess, but they’re pretty easy to destroy, and they aren’t all that powerful. It can only spawn so many of those. The real problem is this door. There’s this little podium thing? It seems to be the key to opening it, ‘cause there’s no way to brute-force your way in, but nothing I tried would open it. My grandma used to talk about this slate? Apparently, it could interact with all of this ancient garbo, but there’s been no complete slate in one hundred years. Rumor has it that Prince Sugawara used it to lock ya in the shrine.”

Daichi pulls the plate from his belt. “Like this?”

Bokuto glances at it. “Dunno. I don’t remember. Looks like it might be the right thing though. I haven’t tried anything like that yet.”

“Okay… Kuroo said you saw someone on the Divine Beast?"

He perks up, somber eyes meeting Daichi's gaze. "I have. I have tried three times in the past fortnight to get up there and help them, 'cause I'm sure the food is scarce and I have no idea how they're getting water, but I haven't been able to get the timing right. Especially since I'm the only one dumb enough to approach that thing… It's really hard to get off of Vah Yamji once you land, so I can't blame the harpy who's up there. It's gotta suck. Ya gotta wonder how they got up there though! They're probably crazy talented flyers!"

Daichi frowns. "I'm wondering if they got injured on the approach, which is why they can't get off again."

The blood drains from Kuroo's face. "So not only do we have to complete this super complicated attack, but we've got a possibly _injured_ hostage we've gotta get out."

Daichi eyes him. "We?"

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. "You don't have wings, and you're getting up there. Don't see why I can't too."

Bokuto laughs, loud and wild. "Hey, it's gonna be a party up there!"

"So, we all need to land there, get inside, somehow get rid of Vol's influence, then get the possibly very injured and malnourished hostage down safely." Daichi feels that same pressure, the insecurity and weight of being this world's (that he does not remember) Hero, weighing on his chest and shoulders, pressing down until it's hard to breathe.

Bokuto slaps him on the back. "Piece of cake!" He laughs again. "Maybe we can get some volunteers to help us out, huh? The harpies have always liked ya, Daichi! Maybe they'll listen to you better than they listen to me."

Strangely, that does not make him feel better. Not even a little bit.

"Why are some people hesitant to volunteer? Have you lost anyone to the Divine Beast?" Kuroo's questions do  _ not help _ Daichi's growing stress.

The fact that Bokuto wilts a bit at these questions, eyes going distant, only adds to the ever growing pressure. He tries to focus on breathing.

"When I was still a chick, there was a reckless harpy who led a charge against Vah Yamji. This was back when we still were trying to live on the surface. The leader managed to convince thirty harpies to join them. Only six returned to their families alive," Bokuto says quietly, serious and low. He's silent for a moment, paying respect to the dead. "The leader was my older brother. He was not among the survivors. Harpies hold grudges. Even though it wasn't my fault, and I'm not like my brother, and I will not make his mistakes, they don't trust me. They look at me and they see his failures and his shortcomings."

Daichi gulps. "Shit, Bokuto. I'm… I'm really sorry. That must be really difficult."

He hums. "It is what it is. No matter how sure they are that I am my brother, I'm not. I have nothing to prove to them.” He shrugs. “Even if no one else volunteers, we can do this, because we are the only ones who can. We can’t fail if we’re the only ones trying.”

The words don’t make a lot of sense, but some of the tension lessens. Daichi chuckles, pretty sure he understands what Bokuto meant. “You’re right.”

“How strong are the winds around the Divine Beast?” Kuroo asks, arm slipping from Bokuto’s shoulders as he thinks. “Maybe we could make our own wings. You get us up there, and we use the air currents to our advantage.”

Both Daichi and Bokuto’s eyes widen. “That could work,” Daichi hums.

“In a normal situation, yeah, that'd probably work. But with Vah Yamji... There’s… like… a _really_ high chance you’ll get sucked into the spinning blades and die. Or take an up-draft too far and lose sight of Vah Yamji and be unable to get back.” Bokuto sounds nervous, like he hates to be the one to turn the idea down.

"This might be insensitive," Daichi warns, "because I remember  _ nothing _ about your culture, but could you carry one of us?"

Bokuto eyes him and Kuroo slowly. "One of you, definitely. If it were an easy flight, I could probably carry you both, but even getting close to Vah Yamji is really hard and requires a lot of agility, which I would have to give up to carry both of you."

"So, if we got one other harpy to carry the other person, it's possible we could do a quick fly-by where you drop us off and pick up the hostage, and Kuroo and I can take care of the Divine Beast, and then you come back for us once we've got the Divine Beast back on our side?"

Bokuto's eyes glitter as they step into a well-lit cavern, where torchlight bounces off of every surface. "I've got a buddy that owes me a favor, and no plans for the rest of the week," he smirks.

Daichi is coming.

That's all the propels Suga forward, all that lifts his leaden limbs off the ground and keeps his weary eyes open.

He hasn't slept, not since that dream, and  _ gods _ his body hurts. The lizalfos had crept too close to his hideout,  _ far  _ too close, and he spent the past three days leading them astray, convincing them he had moved his hideout to the other side of the castle.

The castle rumbles. Vol roars, deep and low, the sound shaking the stone walls to the very foundations.

Suga can feel Vol's anger in his chest as though it were his own. A grin, bright and hopeful, curves the cheeks his happy tears run down. He has no proof that it's Daichi making Vol mad, none at all, but in the last one hundred years nothing else has made the bastard so angry.

A defeated guardian made him irritated.

A rebelling tribe of lizalfos earned his tempered ire.

Suga personally getting in his face would make him grumpy for a few weeks.

But this? This isn't malcontent or spite or mere irritation. This is rage, pure and unending malice pouring out of him. And there's only two people Suga can think of that have ever inspired or have the influence to inspire that kind of hatred.

Sugawara Koushi, because as soon as he completed the spell that would bind their souls together and trap him in this castle, malice poured out of Vol like he was trying to drown Suga in it.

And Sawamura Daichi, the one who can wield the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness, and the one prophesied to defeat Vol. The one who was always going to defeat Vol. Because Suga had damn near defied the laws of nature and the gods themselves to bring Daichi back.

Joy courses through him, pushing that malice back. He hopes Vol can feel that, can feel that righteous satisfaction. Vol had been whispering to him that he was fighting for nothing, that his end could be quick and painless, that no one would blame him if he fell, that death would be a warmer embrace than this life could give him.

Vol is wrong.

Vol is  _ wrong _ .

Daichi is back. Daichi is back and he's alive and he's coming, he's coming for Suga even though he doesn't remember anything because the Shrine of Resurrection always has a cost - more life for the memories of the life you've already lived. The more work it takes to heal you, the more memories it takes.

Daichi was, for all intents and purposes, dead when Suga had laid his cold, stiff body into the glowing bed. He should know nothing, remember nothing.

But he knew Suga, he remembered Suga and he was coming. Coming to end this. After one hundred years, he was  _ coming _ .

Suga focuses on that joy, letting it fill him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. He ignores his weariness. Vol knows he's tired. That won't irritate him. Joy, though? The antithesis to his very existence? Now  _ that _ would piss Vol off.

Vol took all of his happiness, took all his friends and family. This retribution is small, but the spite almost fuels him as much as the knowledge that Daichi is out there, being a pain in Vol's ass.

The lizalfos chasing him begin to run even faster after him, sensing that the sooner they capture him, the less likely it is that the castle will crumble around them and crush them all to death.

Suga turns and sticks his tongue out at them. Not only is it a taunt to piss them off - he's already got Vol pissed, might as well make it a pissed party - but lizalfos almost permanently have their tongues out, so he's making fun of them specifically as well.

They roar, but it has nothing on Vol's roar.

He laughs, loud and triumphant. He hasn't won, he isn't free, this is by no means the end of his struggles, but it's the end of his struggle without hope and that deserves celebration. When he next sleeps, he'll dream of freedom and safety and feasts for the first time in decades. He'll dream of a knight with warm brown eyes and hair that never quite lies flat and the crushing, warm hugs that knight gives. He'll dream of the look on Vol's face as he's destroyed, the last Calamity untamed by their ancestors.

They will make history.

His hope will not be crushed, not even by malice incarnate. There is nothing that Vol can do to crush him now.

Daichi purses his lips. 

It's not that he doesn't trust Bokuto. On the contrary, Daichi has trusted him from the first meeting and the past couple days spent in his presence have only strengthened that trust. Bokuto is kind, goofy, and honest. He is driven by his heart and his dream to be the best harpy warrior ever. Like his grandfather, Bokuto Koutarou has heroism and courage in his blood, and Daichi is more than happy that he's on his side.

However.

Vah Yamji is  _ very _ high in the sky.

Extremely high, one might say.

High enough that it sometimes ducks behind clouds and goes out of sight for periods of time. Daichi would know - he's spent a good chunk of the past few days watching it.

High enough that if Bokuto, who is prone to exaggerating and getting overly excited, happened to have overestimated his flying ability, or how much Daichi weighs, or overestimated his buddy's strength or skill, either he or Kuroo would  _ definitely _ become splats of red mush on the mountainside.

So, it's really not about trust. For all the time they've spent planning these past few days, they have yet to try flying. It's not that Daichi doesn't trust Bokuto, or Bokuto's taste in friends. On the contrary, Bokuto has shown himself to be an excellent judge of character, and an immensely talented individual himself.

It's just that Daichi  _ really  _ does not want to die by becoming a red smudge of blood and bone for keese and other pests to feast on on the mountainside.

And Vah Yamji is  _ very _ high in the sky.

And Bokuto is a slave to his own enthusiasm.

And Daichi is probably pretty heavy.

And Daichi just isn't sure that this is a good idea. He has no memories, nothing to base this insecurity off of, but he can't help it. It's not intentional. He's not  _ trying _ to be nervous. He just  _ is. _

Bokuto does not have that problem.

"Oya oya oya!" He shouts, for definitely not the first or second time today. "You ready, Yamji?! We're comin' to take you down!" He's jumping up and down, flapping just enough that he hovers in the air for a few moments, then lands, only to jump into the air again.

"Bokuto, you're gonna tire yourself out." Kuroo snorts, coming up behind him and forcing him to stay on the ground by putting his hands on his shoulders. "Be like Daichi. Quiet. Studious. Determined." Kuroo takes a couple steps toward him, staring directly into his eyes. "Actually, just kidding. Don't be like Daichi. Daichi's nervous."

Bokuto squawks in amazement. "Daichi's nervous? But why?" He bounces over to stand in front of him. "Daichi, why are you nervous? Our plan is foolproof! We're gonna be heroes! Well, you're already a hero, but you'll be doubly heroic! Aren't you excited?!"

Daichi rubs his face. "Even the best laid plans flop sometimes, Bokuto. And honestly, Vah Yamji isn't even really what I'm worried about. I'm more worried about getting Kuroo and I up there. I'm wondering if we'll be too heavy."

Bokuto snorts, staring for a moment as if to check if he's joking, and then laughs a loud, raucous laugh. "You're not too heavy! There's fledglings that can carry you! Hell, there's  _ hatchlings _ that could get ya a ways off the ground!"

"How much of that is exaggerated?" Daichi asks wearily.

"What? Bo?  _ Exaggerate _ ? Say it ain't so!" Kuroo puts the back of his hand to his forehead, as though he’s about to faint. "Bo, tell me the truth, even if it'll break my heart."

Bokuto stares at his toes. "Okay, the hatchlings  _ might _ be a little too young, cause… like… they don't have their flight feathers yet, so they don't really have any control… but my baby brother is a fledgling and even though his feathers aren’t completely grown in yet, he could definitely carry you, and I'm way stronger than he is!” An idea hits him and he grins brightly. “I’ll prove it!”

Then he jumps into the air, and before Daichi can even really process what’s going on, he grabs Daichi around the middle with his massive bird-feet, carrying them both into the air with ease. Daichi lets out a squeak, scrabbling to get a good grip on Bokuto’s legs.

But, as startling as it is, Daichi realizes, slowly, that Bokuto’s not straining at all. It looks… easy for him. He’s pretty strong, after all, and Bokuto even carries them both through a flip to prove his strength. Daichi isn’t heavy for him.

Some of the worry eases from his shoulders. “You can put me down now, Bo. I believe you.”

He cackles, gently setting him back on the ground. “Told ya! It’ll be fine!” In action so owl-like in nature Daichi’s breath catches, Bokuto’s head snaps to a point almost directly behind him as twin feathers on his head perk up like ears on a dog. “Yuuji!” He shouts, laughing more.

A harpy with brown feathers that fade into a light blond steps out into the clearing they’ve gathered in. Physically, he looks much like Bokuto - buff and young, the way he carries that poleaxe suggesting that he’s a warrior too. He grins at the sight of Bokuto, the flash of silver on his tongue startling Daichi.

Does he… have a nail in his tongue?

“Daichi, Kuroo, this is my friend Terushima Yuuji! He’s great! We’ve been friends since we were hatchlings! He’s super strong and a great flyer too!”

Terushima grins at Daichi, sticking out a hand. “Sawamura Daichi, right? My grandma has the biggest crush on you. You’re looking pretty good for your age!”

“Call me Daichi,” Daichi says, shaking his hand sheepishly. “And you can tell your grandmother I’m flattered, but I’m really pretty lame.”

Bokuto and Kuroo simultaneously go somber. “He’s not kidding,” Bokuto says.

“The guy’s totally lame,” Kuroo nods seriously. “A complete let-down. My name is Kuroo Tetsurou. The least lame of all of us.” Daichi punches Kuroo in the stomach as Bokuto smacks him upside the head. He lets out a groaning laugh. “Daichi’s lame, but his punches are not,” he amends with a wheeze. “And Bokuto _might_ be cooler than me.” He sticks out a hand. “It’s nice to meet ya.”

Terushima giggles and takes his hand. “All three of you are cool and even if ya weren’t, Bo likes ya, so I wouldn’t care anyway. Kou tells me we’re going to land on the Divine Beast. What’s the plan? I’m carrying someone, I assume? Since neither of you two appear to have wings?”

Daichi nods. “I’ve interacted with the same kind of technology that runs the Divine Beast, so, in theory, I can turn it back to our side. That, combined with the fact that Bo thinks there’s someone stuck up there, we’ve got more than enough reason to try.”

Terushima narrows his eyes at Bokuto. “If I do this, I don’t owe you any more favors, right? We can finally be done with this?”

A grin as bright as the dawn and as mischievous as a child's crawls onto Bokuto’s face. “Yep, this is the last one.”

Terushima turns tired eyes to Daichi and Kuroo. “ _ Never _ owe him a favor. He’s crazy. I had him cover for me three times when we were hatchlings and he’s just  _ now _ using the last one! That was nearly twenty years ago!”

“I just don’t call in that many favors,” Bokuto cooes innocently, his eyes glittering with playfulness. “Unlike  _ some people _ .”

Terushima pouts. “If your dad had a stick up his ass, you’d need someone to cover for you too. Your parents are just  _ unfairly _ chill.”

That, apparently, convinces Bokuto, because he laughs loudly. “I can’t even argue with that. Your dad’s a strict jerk. My mom just forgets how many kids she has so we can get away with everything.”

“Anyways, back to the plan,” Daichi interrupts, with a nervous smile. “If there’s really someone stuck up there, they’re probably not doing too well. They need our help. We shouldn’t dawdle anymore than we have to. Bokuto said you were going to bring the weaponry we’d need, Terushima?”

He nods, revealing a woven blanket he’s tugged behind him. He lets it fall open, revealing two bows designed to be shot with harpy feet, two smaller recurve bows, four quivers of arrows, and two swords. “Harpies are mostly trained as archers, as aerial combat is kind of our forte. Kou and I both trained with swords and spears as well, just to have a more diverse arsenal at our disposal. I’ve recently picked up poleaxe.”

“I was thinking that the two of you could carry the weaponry while we carry the two of you?” Bokuto says. “Likely, Vah Yamji will send out defenses to try to get us off, so while Daichi and Kuroo are getting inside and switching it back, I was thinking that Yuuji and I could keep the reinforcements off your back.”

“Good idea, Bo,” Kuroo says. “But, you should prioritize the hostage. I’m competent with a sword, and Daichi’s supposedly the best warrior in recorded history, so we’ll probably be okay. If it turns out that there’s no one up there anymore or the person died while up there, then you guys can protect us.”

“So, Kou and I’ll be flying back and forth a few times is what you’re saying?” Terushima looks a little concerned. “It’s hard enough to land on Yamji  _ once _ . You want us to do it twice?”

“We were thinking that it’d be easier since you wouldn’t be carrying anything or anyone, and Vah Yamji will undoubtedly be more focused on getting rid of the people crawling around inside it than the people flying around outside it.” Daichi says all this with a lot of confidence considering he’s never flown and can’t remember ever boarding Vah Yamji, but they need Terushima, so he can pretend to be more confident than he is.

“Yeah!” Bokuto grins, and Daichi lets out a tiny sigh of relief, as he continues completely unaware. “The first time might be hard, but the second time should be a piece of cake!”

There’s a moment of silence while Terushima considers. “Aw, what the hell!” He grins, slapping palms with Bokuto. “Let’s do it! Worth a shot!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to take on Vah Yamji.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!!! it's been a while!!! hope you all are doing well!!! hope you all enjoy the chapter!!! it took me a while to get rolling with it, but i think it turned out pretty good :D

Vah Yamji is _huge_.

Giant cloud-cleaving wings with terrifyingly large feet and a broad tail. Daichi can see the spinning blades, six of them spinning on single axles. It’s easy to see them from how high above them they are. Nerves curl in Daichi’s gut as Bokuto expertly navigates the rapidly shifting winds, Terushima and Kuroo right behind them.

“On me!” Bokuto shouts, voice cutting through the din of the Divine Beast. “Now!”

Their ascent had been quick, but not _hurried_. Bokuto’s sudden dive, though, is what Daichi would call hurried, but the warrior displays immense control as they plummet at unbelievable speeds toward the Divine Beast, which is now below them.

Though the wind stings his eyes, he manages to glance over and see Terushima and Kuroo right next to them, plummeting just as fast. 

Daichi closes his eyes as they get closer, closer, closer, and Bokuto is trembling with the force of their descent but is making no move to slow them. The breath is jolted out of him as suddenly they’re not plummeting, not falling, but hovering, and his knees wobble dangerously when Bokuto sets him down.

“We did it!” Bokuto hoots, jumping up and down.

Terushima lands a moment later, throwing Kuroo to the ground much less gently than Bokuto did for him. “Damn, that was scary!” Terushima crows, grinning brilliantly. “Can’t wait to do this again!” This is said with a fair deal more sarcasm.

Bokuto straightens, face going slack. “Teru, come help me find the stranded harpy. Daichi, Kuroo, go fix Yamji.”

“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice startles all four of them and they spin to see who spoke, their gazes eventually falling on the prone figure.

A harpy, with inky black feathers and sharp blue eyes, is crawling toward them, dragging a clearly broken leg behind them. Their face is twisted in pain, but their eyes are filled with hope. “My… My name is Akaashi Keiji,” they say. “Son of Akaashi Koshiro and Akaashi Sumi. Please… Please help me.”

Bokuto immediately crouches next to Akaashi, serious and genuine. “That’s why we’re here. We’re going to get you down, alright?”

“Thank the gods,” Akaashi murmurs, eyes falling closed for a moment.

“My name is Bokuto Koutarou, and this Terushima Yuuji, Kuroo Tetsurou, and Sawamura Daichi. You’re going to be alright, ‘Kaashi.”

Akaashi’s eyes widen. “Sawamura Daichi… As in… the swordsman Prince Sugawara saved one hundred years ago?”

“The same,” Bokuto grins. “Looking pretty good for one hundred and twenty years old, wouldn’t ya say?”

“And Bokuto, as in, grandson of the original pilot of Vah Yamji? And brother of the rebel leader?” Akaashi’s wonder shines clear in his voice, in his words. When Bokuto nods, a little shy, Akaashi continues, “And Kuroo, as in the head researcher who died in service of Queen Sugawara Aito?” Kuroo’s eyes widen in pure shock, which is answer enough for Akaashi. “I’ve heard of you all. I am honored to be in your presence.”

Kuroo snorts. “We’re not exactly anybody yet. Well, Daichi is, but he doesn’t count. He’s more famous for not doing anything for a long time than he is for doing things.”

Akaashi regards him with a cool look. “Anybody who tries to better the world is somebody. It doesn’t matter what scale, or how much they’ve done. You are not cowering. That makes you somebody. Only cowards are nobodies.”

None of them know what to say to that, which results in Akaashi smirking. “Now that that is settled.” He takes a deep breath. “Is there anything I can do to help? I’ve been on this gods-forsaken bird for nearly a fortnight, so I’m as close to an expert as our generation can procure.”

Daichi shakes his head. “What you can do is let Bokuto and Terushima get you to a healer. Unless there’s something big that we need to know, I have confidence that we’ll either get this done or die trying.”

Kuroo elbows him, muttering in his ear. “You shouldn’t be confident we’re going to die trying.”

Bokuto elbows him on the other side. “Kuroo’s right.”

Terushima comes up from behind him, putting his chin on Daichi’s shoulder. “What are we talking about? I want to be included.”

Daichi takes a deep breath. “Akaashi, the most important thing you’ve learned from being stuck on Yamji. Go.”

Akaashi blinks. “It is not unmanned. _Something_ is controlling this. I don’t know if it’s a person or what, but it makes mistakes. It’s inconsistent. It seems incredibly unlikely that whatever is controlling Yamji is automated. Whatever you find down there, I have to assume it’s organic, therefore killable, but there _is_ something down there.”

Daichi nods. “Now, Bokuto, Terushima - be careful. Akaashi could probably save himself if everything went to shit, but it’d really be better for him if he didn’t have to. Kuroo, you’ll come with me. Akaashi,” he turns to the injured harpy, “Don’t let Bokuto and Terushima do anything stupid.”

Akaashi smiles. “Consider it done, Hero. See you on the ground.”

Bokuto and Terushima work out a method of carrying Akaashi - Bokuto holding both of his arms, and Terushima his uninjured leg. They use a couple spare bows to brace the broken leg as best they can, then take off for Fukurodani. Bokuto had reached out to a healer friend of his prior to them leaving, so there should be someone on the ground waiting for their arrival.

Daichi tests the balance and swing of his long sword, embracing the way the weapon feels natural in his grasp. His wrists twist with practiced ease, and his hands grip the handle as though they’ve done so a thousand times. 

Even if _he_ doesn’t remember being a swordsman, it would appear that his body does, which is more comforting that he’d like to admit.

He glances over at Kuroo as they make their way over to the pedestal. He, too, carries his short sword with a practiced grace. Confidence settles over Daichi’s shoulders. They’ve got this. They can _do_ this.

This feels like progress, like a step toward Suga. 

The pedestal glows orange when they approach. The plate lights up blue in response, and Daichi can’t help a relieved smile. This wasn’t all for nothing. They can do this. 

Hesitantly, he places the plate on the pedestal. There’s a flash of pain, sharp and piercing, and for a moment, he _swears_ he can see Suga’s bright hazel eyes, but then both Suga and the pain fade away to nothing, and he’s left to watch a massive mechanical door open in front of them, revealing a barely illuminated staircase down into the Divine Beast.

He looks at Kuroo and grins. Kuroo is grinning too, as he slings his buckler down into his hand. Together, they creep down the stairs.

The air feels weird, stagnant. There’s dust particles hanging in the air, and Daichi has to resist the urge to cough. Red lights, dim as they are, flicker to life as they step lower and lower. Eventually, they reach a broad archway which opens into a dark, cavernous room. 

Daichi takes the first step forward into the room, and Yamji roars.

The entire cavern groans as panels all along the walls open, revealing that this is, quite literally, the belly of the Beast. Sunlight filters in through the rib-like gaps, but with the sunlight comes strong winds. Not enough to knock them over, but certainly enough to make communication more difficult. 

Just to be sure, Daichi grabs hold of Kuroo’s arm. 

Yamji roars again, then slowly begins to tilt from side to side, probably hoping to dislodge the pair of them. Daichi tugs him back, retreating to the completely walled in stairwell. They wait there until Yamji gives up, levelling out again, and slowly creep back into the room.

Guardians, small and clearly _this_ close to collapsing already, rise from hidden cavities in the ground. Without saying a word, Daichi and Kuroo jump into action.

The guardian Daichi takes on first has a spear, and stabs at him with a mechanical precision, which Daichi has to leap out of the way to avoid. There’s a pattern to the strikes, though, and soon enough, Daichi is able to duck past the tip of the spear and stab right through the guardian’s glowing red eye, effectively killing it.

He spins to find another guardian bearing down on him, this one armed with an axe, and he parries the first sweeping strike on instinct alone. He has to retreat a couple steps - it turns out, machines don’t get tired, and therefore can strike again and again and again, regardless of how heavy the weapon is. 

Daichi does not have that luxury.

Unfortunately, machines are not able to escape the laws of physics, and are subject to concepts such as momentum.

He lets the guardian back him toward the ribs, feeling the wind getting stronger and stronger against him, pulling him out. He keeps his footing though, feinting a poor parry, as though he were getting tired.

The guardian apparently can interpret that, and prepares a particularly powerful swing.

Daichi rolls out of the way, and the guardian chucks itself out the window.

He grins. He loves it when a plan comes together.

Kuroo has dispatched another two guardians, and is engaged with the final one when Daichi turns around. The guardian only has one eye, but its wielding of two swords makes it dangerous and hard to defeat. Kuroo’s temple is glistening with sweat, his chest heaving with breath. 

Daichi comes up behind it, and with a powerful slash, separates its swiveling head from its spider-like body.

Kuroo takes a deep breath. “Well, that was fun.”

Daichi glances over toward the head of the beast, where there’s another large chamber waiting for them. Inside, he can see a pulsing orange mass, with a pedestal in front of it. “We’re not done yet.”

Kuroo sighs. “You _could_ just celebrate our first victory together for a moment. It wouldn’t kill you. We just defeated five guardians extremely quickly, and neither of us even got a paper-cut. That’s pretty impressive. Especially considering your age, Grandpa.”

Daichi glares. “Well, this _grandpa_ just saved your skin, so you’d better watch your mouth.” In truth, the jabs at his age don’t bother him, because it’s not like he _feels_ one hundred and twenty years old. It _is_ probably pretty jarring for the people around him who recognize him to realize that he’s over one hundred years old and still _looks_ twenty. He’d find that jarring too. 

Kuroo snickers, but lets the jab drop as they stalk toward the head, swords at the ready. 

The head is empty, with the exception of the glowing mass with the pedestal. No guardians rise from the floor, no monsters crawl out from niches in the walls. It’s empty and it’s quiet, and Daichi doesn’t trust this at all. Not even a little bit.

A glance at Kuroo has him coming to stand back to back with Daichi, one hand extended back to press the buckler to his shoulders. When he steps forward, Kuroo follows him, walking backward. 

Daichi focuses on the pedestal.

He doubts Kuroo can hear the hum coming from it, the low-pitched scream it seems to emit. It’s fighting, he knows. It’s been fighting for one hundred years. It makes his gut clench, both with nerves and sadness.

Something has control of Yamji, and even Yamji itself is repulsed by it.

The sound reaches a crescendo as Daichi gently sets the plate onto the pedestal, and everything then goes quiet. Too quiet.

“Sawamura?” Kuroo says, all too quiet as well. “Uh…”

Daichi turns. “Oh.”

A large, pulsating, purple and red _mass_ is oozing out of imperceptible gaps in the floor, coalescing into a giant monster with glowing red eyes.

“Well, shit,” Kuroo mutters, bracing himself for attack.

Where Daichi’s eyes are drawn to, though, is a bulge in the monster’s gooey side, where something seems to be trying to get loose. Hesitantly, he sheathes his sword, and pulls out the small bow he’d strung to his back. He pulls an arrow from the quiver at his hip, draws, aims, and fires at the edge of the bulge, trying to slice open the side and let whatever it is out. The monster seems to be still trying to sort itself out, and doesn’t even notice.

But Daichi does. Daichi watches as pale hands, one gripping the handle of a small knife, the other covering in red and purple ooze, rip open the skin of the bulge, causing the monster to roar in rage.

Then Prince Sugawara Koushi, alive and real, dives through the opening and rolls free.

“Suga!” Daichi yells in warning and greeting, ditching the bow to draw his sword and come to his protection, slicing the tentacle-like limb that threatens to grab him. Kuroo is standing, jaw practically on the ground, staring at the two of them. 

Suga grins a brilliant grin, coming to stand next to Daichi. “Daichi,” he says, as much a greeting as they can afford when they’re fighting Vol, or at least a part of him. Daichi keeps his eyes trained on the roaring mass as it starts to take form.

“Prince Sugawara?” Kuroo squeaks, finally finding his voice.

“You must be Kuroo!” Suga turns his grin on Kuroo easily, though his eyes are watering. “Thank you for helping Daichi! Your great grandfather was a great help to me and mine, and was always very kind to me.”

Kuroo doesn’t respond.

“Guys,” Daichi warns, as the monster seems to finally figure out which limbs it wants, and pulls a massive spear out from its jaw. “Monster first, reunion second.”

Suga’s smile fades as quickly as it came, and he’s quick to dash the tears away. “I’m only here because you placing the tablet on the stand drew the part of Vol which controls Yamji here. You’ll be fighting one fifth of Vol, and it’s _really_ pissed off. I’ll do my best to help you defeat it, but I’m going to vanish when it does. The spell dictates that I can’t go anywhere he’s not, and until you defeat all of him, Daichi, I’m stuck like glue to his side.” Suga glances at Kuroo. “Daichi _has_ to be the one to strike the killing blow. If he doesn’t, you’ll end up killing one fifth of me, which, I have to be honest, would really not be my favorite. While any killing of any part of Vol is definitely a win, I’m kind of attached to all five fifths of me and would really rather not lose any of my fifths today.”

Kuroo bows and nods. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Suga snorts. “Haven’t been called that in a while.” He cleans the curved blade of his knife on his pants, giving them both a wild smirk. “Kuroo and I will distract. Daichi, take him down.” He darts toward Vol, slashing at any part of him that gets too close, causing Vol to roar in rage.

Kuroo follows his lead, going to the opposite side, dodging any weapons or lasers that happen to slice near him. He, too, slashes at whatever body parts happen to get too close, and lures more toward him with taunts and jeers. The body parts he removes simply melt into a gelatinous goo and ooze back into the main mass, slowly reforming the just-removed limbs.

Daichi charges right down the middle, sword a flashing tongue of deadly silver.

Vol seems to struggle fighting all three of them at once, its limbs generally flailing as its one eye struggles to choose a target. It focuses solely on Daichi, though, as he draws closer, and Daichi stumbles back in surprise as giant jaws snap at him. He didn’t even know Vol _had_ jaws, but there’s no mistaking the huge gnashing teeth and dripping forked tongue.

Another bite as Daichi falling to the ground, gritting his teeth as his wrists sing in pain. He tries to stand again, but strike after strike from the various tentacles and limbs sprouting out of Vol as fast as they remove them makes it impossible. Vol raises its spear to strike a killing blow.

Suga and Kuroo are in front of him in an instant, Suga taking all of the unarmed limbs and Kuroo using his sword and buckler to change the course of the spear, leading the tip to clang harmlessly off of the ground to Daichi’s right instead of squarely through his chest.

Daichi regains his footing, heart pounding, when a flash of grey draws his eye.

Bokuto, armed with a truly massive longbow, has an equally giant arrow drawn back, aimed squarely at Vol’s head. From where he’s hovering, wings flapping powerfully, he’s easily got a killing shot. He could kill Vol in the next three seconds, unaware of what it would do to Suga, and there’s no way any of them can physically stop him from doing so.

“BOKUTO DON’T KILL IT!” Daichi roars as loud and as fast as he possibly can, leaping past Kuroo and Suga to desperately swing at Vol. The _thunk_ of a longbow reaches his ears, and the relief is almost crushing when he realizes Bokuto managed to change his aim to the limb holding the spear, making the huge weapon clatter to the ground. Kuroo and Suga dash to drag it out of Vol’s reach.

Daichi doesn’t let up with his flurry of attacks, though, aiming all of them for the monster’s eye. Kuroo and Bokuto leap to his sides, protecting his flanks from any attacks. Vol’s roar fills Daichi’s ears. The colors red and purple fill his gaze, coat his skin. He can’t hear Bokuto or Kuroo, but he can feel their power, their heat radiating off of them. Their steel flickers in his peripherals.

He’s exhausted to his very marrow when he finally drives his blade, straight to the crossguard, through Vol’s eye.

Vol screams, and Daichi dashes to Suga, who had taken up a defensive post by the spear, not waiting to watch the monster fade.

He wraps Suga in a crushing hug, which Suga gladly returns. “I’m coming,” Daichi says again, even as Suga starts to fade. “Please stay alive.”

It hurts more than he can say when Suga fades away, golden light marking his absence, without having the chance to respond. He turns to see Vol, a giant puddle of purple ooze, slowly fade into nothing.

He looks to Bokuto, Kuroo.

Then heaves a deep breath. “We did it.”

Bokuto’s gaze, though, is hovering over Daichi’s shoulder, pure amazement written on his features.

When Daichi turns, he’s met with a ghost.

 _Bokuto_ , his mind whispers, _Champion Bokuto_.

The harpy is bulky and muscular, just like his grandson. Glittering green eyes with sharply slitted pupils gaze at them, analyzing each of them carefully. He smiles, warm and bright, when he sees Bokuto Koutarou, seemingly recognizing him instantly.

Then he fades to nothing.

The Divine Beast, it turns out, will need a pilot. Once Vol’s influence is gone, it lands near the hill they took off from automatically, then effectively powers down.

This poses a problem.

Daichi does not have a pilot.

He will need a pilot for Yamji for the final battle with Calamity Vol. The last fifth of Vol will undoubtedly be the most difficult to take down, and likely, the pilot will need time to train. The ghost of Champion Bokuto no longer being on this plane of existence means that, likely, the pilot will have to be self-taught, which will, undoubtedly, take even more time.

“I’ll stay and train with it,” Bokuto Koutarou offers, though hesitantly. “I’m the grandson of the original Champion, after all… It’s probably in my blood, or something… I don’t know anything about it, but I… I can try.”

Daichi bites his lip, thinking for a long moment. “I’m not opposed to the idea. You’re incredibly capable and I think you and Yamji would be a good team. My hesitation is not because I think you can’t do it. My hesitation is that I could really use your help with the next Divine Beasts. ”

The praise apparently hits close to home for Bokuto, because his eyes start watering. “Really?”

“Of course. Have you seen you fight? You’re amazing.” Daichi stares at him in surprise for a moment. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you, Bokuto.”

He shakes his head, turning away to wipe his eyes.

“I agree, Sawamura,” Kuroo says, refocusing the conversation. “I think Bo would make a badass pilot, but you need more people like him at your back. If he’s piloting Yamji, he’s not on the ground with us. I don’t know about you, but I definitely feel more comfortable in a fight when Bokuto’s got my back. If Bokuto stays here, I suppose we could ask Terushima to join us… But… well…” He hesitates, eyeing Bokuto. “Terushima is nice and all, but he’s not as strong of a fighter. I’ve seen him spar with Bo - he’s good, don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely a capable warrior - but he’s just not _as_ good, and we need the strongest fighters we can get.”

“What are our options?” Bokuto asks, clearing his throat. “If not me, then who else could we ask?”

The question startles a chuckle out of Daichi. “Well, I only really know four people, and two of them are in this conversation with me. I have _no_ idea who we could ask. Honestly, Bokuto, I’m wondering if you can come with us, and then, when we have all the Divine Beasts, we allot some time for training. I… Um… Well, I still need to find the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness, and so… You know… While I’m doing that, you and the other Champions could train with the Divine Beasts.”

Bokuto grins, eyes bright. “Really?! I can have both?!”

Daichi smiles. “I think so. But you’ll have to train _really_ hard when you return.”

Letting out a screeching hoot, Bokuto dances around the room. Kuroo snickers.

“You’ve just made his day,” he hisses in Daichi’s ear. “Get ready for a day-long hug.”

Sure enough, not even two breaths later, Bokuto is hugging Daichi, wing/arms and legs both wrapped tightly around him. Bokuto’s feathers tickle his neck as the harpy cuddles into him, humming with delight.

“You’re welcome, Bokuto,” he sighs, awkwardly patting his arm. “I’m grateful to have met you, you know. You’re going to be an excellent pilot.”

Bokuto releases what sounds like a sob, which is only interrupted by the arrival of Terushima.

“Aw, man! You guys already won?” Terushima seems to wilt. “I wanted to help!”

Bokuto, finally, drops off of Daichi, sheepishly scratching the back of his hand. “I… um… may have left Terushima to take care of Akaashi while I came back to help you.”

“Is Akaashi okay?” Daichi turns to Terushima, deciding not to judge Bokuto’s decision at all. Frankly, Bokuto’s arrival changed the tide of the battle, and was key to their success. He has no ground to stand on to chastise him. 

“When I left, he was taking a well-deserved nap. They had to break his leg again to reset it, so he was… um… in a lot of pain for a while. They gave him some herbs and whatnot, so he should be doing better when he wakes up. The guy also drank like… five skins of water. You would have thought he hadn’t seen water in weeks.”

Daichi, Kuroo, and Bokuto all stare at him for a moment. It’s Bokuto who finally breaks the silence.

“Yuuji,” he says quietly, “he _hadn’t_ seen water in weeks. He was trapped up here. Eating birds mostly raw.”

Terushima blinks, then his face goes blank. A wince overtakes his features. “I knew that. You told me that.”

Bokuto nods slowly.

“Sorry, Kou. I completely forgot! No wonder Akaashi was looking at me strangely!”

Daichi takes a deep breath. “Alright, so now that we’ve got that settled… Bokuto, I think it would be a good idea to work with you a little bit on piloting Yamji. At least enough that you’re not completely in the dark when you come back later. Then, I’d say we take a night to sleep and head toward the next Divine Beast tomorrow.”

“Ya know, Sawamura… I kind of assumed you’d want me to come along… I don’t have to if you don’t want me to. I-”

“I want you to,” Daichi says, flapping a hand at him. “Stop worrying about that stuff. If I didn’t like you, I would let you know. If I didn’t want you to come, you would know it.”

Kuroo grins brightly. “Thanks, Sawamura.”

He massages his shoulder wearily. “Okay, now that that’s settled. Terushima, you’re also welcome to join me. I can’t promise it’ll be fun or easy or comfortable, but it will certainly be… Something.”

Terushima hesitates. “I’ve got a little sister?” He says slowly, “I can’t leave her. Not yet. She’s too young. My parents-”

Daichi holds up a hand with a soft smile. “Then stay with her. If she needs you, of course you should stay.”

Terushima smiles. “When Kou comes back for Yamji, I’ll be with him. I’ll help you fight against Vol.”

Sugawara Koushi blinks, and he’s back in the castle.

He knew it was going to happen, he knows it was inevitable, he _knows_ he should be celebrating, he knows Vol is pissed, he knows that this was a _win_ …

But the anger, the sadness, the disappointment welling inside him, threatening to drown him, doesn’t listen to all that logic.

He was transported into a random hall in the castle, so Suga finds the nearest chest he can hide in, and slowly closes himself in. He clutches his knees to his chest.

 _Daichi is coming_ , he thinks. _I am not alone._

The thoughts do not ease the pain. 

_Daichi has made new friends_ , a dark voice in his mind whispers. _He doesn’t need you. He will forget about you. He already forgot about you. He doesn’t know you anymore. He doesn’t need you. He doesn’t know you._

He squeezes his eyes shut, focusing how Daichi smelled when he wrapped him in his arms. He was thick and warm and firm and he smelled like woodsmoke. At their last campfire, they must have been burning cedar - the smell clung to his clothes. Warm, safe, inviting.

Suga chokes on a sob.

How long will it take Daichi to realize that Suga is not worth saving?

How long will it take before Daichi forgets about him, this time by choice?

How much longer will he have hope to hold onto?

Daichi has new friends. Daichi has a whole world to rediscover. Daichi does not need him - has never once needed him. He is free from his past, free from the bonds of relationships and time. He could remake his life anew, and no one would be able to stop him.

Footsteps creak the floorboards. He covers his mouth, holding his breath until they pass.

Tears slip down his cheeks - fat, hot, salty. There’s nothing he can do to change this. Nothing he can do to fix this. He’s alone. Daichi is his only hope, but he’s not Daichi’s only hope. Daichi has a whole world of possibilities in front of him. He is not the least bit bound by the Sugawara line - at least, not anymore.

Would Suga blame him for abandoning him? _Could_ Suga blame him? The path to saving Suga is treacherous and deadly. Daichi has fought and struggled almost his entire life on behalf of the Sugawara family. Hell, he’s no older than Suga and joined the knights in their harsh regiment when Suga was still refining his penmanship. If there was anyone who deserved a break, it would be Daichi.

 _He just took a one hundred year break_ , that same dark voice in his mind whispers, but Suga chooses to listen to it no longer. That wasn’t a break. He was on the brink of death. That was another fight, another battle - one he just so happened to win. He lost everything that defined him in that fight. Suga wanted nothing more than to be there for him the day that he woke up, be there to explain, to soothe.

But he wasn’t there. He was trapped here, and Daichi was alone. 

Daichi was alone, and still was coming for him. Still cared for him. Still hugged him as tightly as he could and told him he was coming, told him to _please stay alive_. That was not something he could ignore, not something he could afford to forget.

Daichi had asked for nothing as long as Suga had known him. He was a simple boy, and a simple man. Hard-working, intelligent, and athletic, but he needed no more than what he had. He never asked for anything. All he wanted was for Suga to still be alive when he came for him.

In the grand scheme of time, for all the years that they had been alive, all he wanted was one more chance to save Suga’s life.

The selflessness of the request now threatens to choke him. He sobs again, anew, but this time he does not feel so empty. He _will_ be here when Daichi comes for him. Daichi asks for nothing, but Daichi asked for him to wait. To be here. 

That, Suga decides as he sniffles and struggles to breathe, is something that he can give him. He can make that happen. Then, afterward, if they survive, and Daichi decides he wants to never speak to him again, Suga will respect that wish. If Daichi wants to run off with his new friends, assuming they survive, then Suga will let him.

He will release him from the bonds that his mother placed on them both. That will be his first act as king. Daichi deserves to be free, to have the opportunity to live his own life, free from destiny and free from whatever bullshit comes for Destiny-Cursed Prince Sugawara Koushi. Maybe Daichi will become a farmer, or a merchant, or a teacher. Maybe he would join the guard for a town to protect them from monsters.

Sleep takes him slowly, when he is not paying attention.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions are made and dreams are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... :s i was not having a great writing week (finals are coming up and rent and general adulting take a toll on a person holy cats batman) and i think it probably shows
> 
> this isn't the most action-packed chapter of the fic so far but there is some lore and world building here that i had fun with, so i hope you enjoy anyways!!! :)

_This time, the clearing is familiar when he opens his eyes._

_The trees are grey smudges in his peripherals and the sky is a murky purple. The grass beneath his bare feet is only vaguely green, closer to grey than anything. As though it were real, he can feel the spiky, dry blades under his feet, a barely there sensation of discomfort._

_He looks around for Suga. He must be here, right? He wouldn’t come to this clearing alone, right? Surely not._

_Suga fades into existence before him and Daichi grins._

_Suga smiles back, eyes tired and relieved._

_“We did it,” Suga murmurs, barely audible. “We beat Vol, even just once.”_

_“We did,” Daichi says, positively giddy. He hadn’t known when he’d gone to sleep that he’d get to see Suga - several nights of dreamless sleep had passed between the last time they’d dreamed together and now - but he had hoped he would. The two measly sentences he’d gotten to say before Suga faded away were worth nothing compared to what he wanted to say. But all of his words pause at the look on Suga's face. “Why do you look so sad? Your eyes are red and puffy. Are you okay?”_

_Suga stiffens. “I… Um… I think I had a… a little mental breakdown?” He doesn’t meet Daichi’s eyes. “I’m okay now.”_

_Daichi steps closer, slowly reaching to grab Suga’s hands with his own. “Can you tell me about it? Please?”_

_Suga shakes his head. “I don’t need to burden you with any more problems. You’re already taking on so much.”_

_“I disagree. Your emotions, your worries, your fears - none of those are problems, and they’re certainly not burdens to me. You can_ always _talk to me, I promise. I will not let you down again.”_

_Suga glares. “You’ve never let me down, you big dumb perfectionist. And you need to stop being so sweet and compassionate. You… You’re…”_

_“Stop insulting me and stalling and_ talk _to me,” Daichi says, jostling their interlocked hands for emphasis. “I want to hear your thoughts.”_

 _Though he looks immensely uncomfortable, Suga slowly shrugs. “Um… I… I got worried about… you know… the reasons_ why _you’re helping me? I got scared because if you were only helping me because I told you too I’d feel_ really _guilty, but then I got scared because if you don’t come for me, I don’t know what I’d do, and I really… I need you, Daichi, but that’s not fair to you, and you shouldn’t have to be that for me… I know it's circular thinking, and you probably don't think like that, but I can't… I couldn't get the thought out of my head."_

_Daichi squeezes his hands. "I understand. Thank you for telling me. You're right - I don't think like that. I'm not coming to save you because I think I owe you, or anything like that, okay? I promise. I want to help you because I like everything I know about you, Suga. Every time I learn something new about you, I like you more and more. I want to be your friend, which I can't very well do if you're dying and I'm not trying to save you. You don't need to be scared, especially not of me or my motives. I've got amnesia, not a completely empty skull. I am still thinking, still weighing the costs and advantages of things. I weighed the costs of helping you versus the advantages, and I found you were worth the effort, because you are."_

_Suga lets out a shaky breath. "I think I needed to hear you say that, but if you say I told you so, I might punch you."_

_Laughing, Daichi simply squeezes his hands tightly. "Fair enough."_

_"What's… What's on your mind, Daichi?" Suga asks, a little shy. "You need someone to talk to too."_

_"Well…" Daichi wonders how best to answer in a way that wouldn't undermine the answer he just gave Suga._

I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, mostly because it is, and I don't know how to handle the stress, but I'm going to ignore and push through because my admiration for you outweighs any possible consequences for helping you, _his mind whispers unhelpfully._

_The dream begins to fade before he has a chance to string the words together._

_"See you, Daichi," Suga's voice whispers as everything fades to black._

It's not as startling, waking up this time to Kuroo's face hovering above his own. Kuroo looks worried - that's not surprising. Daichi's cheeks are wet and his eyes feel puffy.

He waves Kuroo off, groaning as he sits up. All of his muscles ache and pinch and sting. The downside of living in a cave is that there's no natural light, so he actually has no idea what time it is - he'd guess morning, because Kuroo can absolutely sleep like the dead, but then again, supposedly he makes some racket when he dreams of Suga.

"Breakfast is ready down in the gathering cavern," Kuroo says quietly, answering Daichi's unasked question. "I think it's gonna be a big meal. Bokuto said Akaashi was hoping to speak with you there."

He doesn't ask about the tears, or the puffiness of his eyes, and Daichi decides right then that he has excellent taste in friends.

Then his words process. "Akaashi? The harpy who got trapped on Yamji?"

Kuroo nods. "Bokuto went to visit him in the infirmary when we got back. He's apparently doing much better, with proper food and water back in his system. Bo just said he wanted to speak with you about something, and he seemed pretty serious about it. Said he didn't know what _exactly_ Akaashi wanted to talk about, but it clearly mattered to him."

Daichi nods. "Will do, then… What do you suppose he wants to talk about?"

Kuroo shrugs. "No clue. I haven't even seen him since Bo and Terushima brought him back to the ground. Maybe he wants to thank you? It stands to reason that without you, he might have died up there. I'd be anxious to thank you too."

Daichi winces. "I hope not. I'm more than happy that we were able to get him down, don't get me wrong, but I have _no_ clue how to accept a thank you."

Snickering, Kuroo slings an arm around his shoulders. "You just say you're welcome, Sawamura. It's _real_ complicated."

He shoved him off. "I know _that_ , asshole! It just sounds so insincere!"

Kuroo rolls his eyes. "Who knew the Hero, the one who wields the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness, had anxiety about receiving thanks for his skills?"

" _Shuddup._ "

They make their way down to the gathering cavern. A massive feast awaits them, and as soon as a few harpies spot their entrance, every harpy in the hall takes up a shrill, high-pitched screech, loud enough that both Kuroo and Daichi cringe.

Bokuto appears behind them. "It's a celebratory cry," he shouts to be heard over the screeching. "It's a tribute to how hard we worked to take Yamji down. Something like a battle-cry, actually. The fact that the elders are screening too means that, in future battles, you will have the backing of the harpies."

Sure enough, when Daichi looks over, the elders, whose raggedy feathers are flecked with grey, have raised their faces to the ceiling and are screeching just as hard as the rest.

"What's the appropriate response?" Daichi asks, leaning back so Bokuto can hear him.

"Just smile and wave," Bokuto pats him on the back. "I'll take care of the harpy response."

Daichi and Kuroo do as Bokuto says, smiling and waving - to the great delight of the congregation of harpies - only to jump in genuine terror as a cry louder and harsher and more aggressive than all the rest sounds behind the.. 

Bokuto, face turned toward the heavens and tendons in his neck straining with the effort, is the source of the sound, and the longer it lasts, the more like a war-cry it sounds. 

Daichi's first thought (after the initial rush of terror and adrenaline) is that he is very glad that he did not have to do that to his poor vocal chords. His second thought is occupied with wondering how _Bokuto_ does that to his vocal chords.

Whatever it is, it riles the harpies up like nothing else - their cries grow louder and more triumphant. It's not necessarily a pleasant sound, that’s for certain. But Daichi finds, the longer and longer the sound goes on, the more he finds he likes it. It’s got a ring of hope to it, a ring of faith, a ring of power.

The screeching has not been done for long when there’s a touch on his shoulder. Akaashi, on crutches, his leg splinted and wrapped in layers of linen, stands beside him. “Can I speak with you?”

He seems vaguely nervous. His hands are fidgeting with the cord tied around the wood of his crutches, and his feathers keep raising and then resettling.

"Of course," Daichi says, allowing Akaashi to lead him away to a quiet little outlet.

Akaashi meets his gaze, eyes unerringly blue. "Take me with you." The words are so soft and firm, it takes Daichi a moment to realize what he means.

"What?" He manages intelligently.

"Please, take me with you. I want to help. I want to be part of the force that takes Vol down. I will not slow you down, and I know my limits, so if I feel as though I cannot keep up, I will fall back. I am a team player. My talents will supplement your force well."

Daichi blinks. "A broken leg and two weeks of malnutrition, and you want to come on an arduous and taxing adventure with a bunch of guys you just met… yesterday."

Akaashi's eyes glimmer with determination. "Yes. Absolutely."

It only takes a moment for Daichi to think it over. "Alright. Welcome. We're going to try and head for the next closest Divine Beast this afternoon."

Akaashi's smile is brilliant, bright and sharp. "Thank you, Sir Sawamura."

"Just Daichi," Daichi chuckles. "Just… don't feel bad if your body can't handle the trip. No one will judge you or blame you. I heard the reason you were on Yamji was you were trying to take it down by yourself?"

Akaashi flushes. "Yes. I had a theory regarding blood and fire and their relationship to the construction of the Divine Beasts. It… did not pan out as I anticipated, and I… could not get off the Beast without risking my life."

"Then you're already qualified to be on my team," Daichi laughs. "The fact you tried is all I need to know."

The corners of Akaashi's eyes crinkle in appreciation. "Thank you, Sir Daichi.”

“It’s _really_ just Daichi.”

“Where’s the next closest Divine Beast?” Daichi asks.

The question is mostly directed at Kuroo, but given Kuroo’s just as far away from him as Bokuto and Akaashi, who are riding together on his other side (Akaashi can’t ride alone with his leg, and the herbs he’s munching on to deal with the pain don’t lend themselves to reliable flying). Bokuto is happy enough to ride, but Daichi notes he looks considerably happier with Akaashi’s arm/wing wrapped around his middle to keep him balanced.

Kuroo shrugs. “No clue. I only knew where the first one was because of Bo.”

“There’s one in Aoba Johsai,” Bokuto ponders, “but there’s also one in Karasuno, I’m pretty sure. Karasuno and Aoba Johsai are both pretty far away though…”

“That’s only three. I may… I may not remember the Beasts, but I’ve heard of all the pilots. There were four pilots, so where’s the fourth Beast?”

Bokuto blinks owlishly at him. “Daichi, one is missing. Has been… for like… one hundred years. Legend has it that Hinata would not submit to Vol, and as a result of their stalemate, the Divine Beast fled to an ancient temple our ancestors built, with Champion Hinata trapped inside, where it’s been hidden from Vol’s influence ever since.”

Daichi feels the stress slip onto his shoulders like a thick winter coat in a desert. He even starts sweating a bit. “No one knows where it is.”

Bokuto shrugs. “I guess her daughter might know. She was _really_ young when this all went down, though, so I wouldn’t count on her remembering too much. The whole situation kinda gives me the creeps, honestly. Can you _imagine_? Being inside of a Divine Beast, fighting for your life against Calamity Vol, and then discovering that you’ll never see your family again, because said Divine Beast trapped you and itself in an ancient temple? That’d be terrifying.”

A silence falls over the group, and Daichi shivers. He could mention he was _also_ trapped in an ancient temple for one hundred years, but he wasn’t conscious for most of it, so he doesn’t think it counts.

“How did the two of you meet?” Akaashi asks Kuroo, seemingly desperate to change the subject. “It is… uncommon for harpies to have friends other than other harpies.”

Kuroo snickers. “It’s actually a funny story.”

Bokuto growls. “It’s not _that_ funny.”

“It’s pretty funny.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It really is.”

“But it’s _not_!”

“Sir Bokuto,” Akaashi says firmly, giving him a little squeeze. “Whatever it is, it is not worth yelling about. I am sure it is not as funny as Sir Kuroo seems to think it is.”

Daichi blinks - neither Bokuto nor Kuroo are knights, and frankly, Daichi hadn’t even _thought_ about knighting them yet, but he’s not about to correct Akaashi. And, honestly, if they survive this? Daichi will ask Prince Suga to knight them all, Akaashi included.

“Picture this,” Kuroo grins, sticking his tongue out at Bokuto when he starts pouting. “I’m going about my day, wandering the forest between Nekoma and Fukurodani, checking the traps I had set for deer and rabbits. I’m minding my own business, when I hear this incredibly loud _SQUAWK_ -” he does his best impression of Bokuto, which makes the harpy droop even more, “- and hear this loud thrashing. Obviously, I head toward the noise, worried something is suffering in one of my traps. I don’t like for animals to suffer, because I’m not a barbarian, so I’m jogging a bit. Now, you can imagine my surprise when I see this giant, buff harpy _stuck in a tree_.”

Daichi can’t help the smile - he can see the image so clearly. Akaashi, clearly, is fighting a smile as well.

“Now, being the _hero_ that I am, I was about to call out to this harpy, telling them that I would help, and that my deer-trap is _directly_ beneath the branch their back was braced on, when the harpy _thrashed_ hard enough to snap that branch. Down, down, the harpy crashed, too disoriented to slow their fall, _bam_ right into my trap. Which is a giant net, and even the smallest disturbance can trip it.

“ _Whoosh_ , my trap scooped up the harpy, trapping them above the ground.”

Daichi has to admit, Kuroo has a talent for story-telling, as the only thing keeping Daichi from laughing is the pout on Bokuto’s face.

“So, obviously, I ask the harpy if they’re okay-”

“Liar!” Bokuto snaps, arms crossed. “You burst out cackling like the deranged hyena you are! You didn’t ask me if I was okay, _ever_!”

“Anyway,” Kuroo continues, completely ignoring him, “I teased him about eating him, cut him down, and then realized that his arm had this nasty cut on it. Since we were closer to Nekoma than Fukurodani, I offered to take him back to my house to get some healing supplies, since it would make the flight home more comfortable for him. We got talking, realized we’re actually pretty similar, and we got along really well, and the rest is history.”

Akaashi turns his gaze on Daichi. “And how did you two meet?” He gestures between Daichi and Kuroo.

“I had _just_ woken up, and after talking to some dead people and a goddess or two, I asked Karasu to take me to someone who could help me, and she led me to Nekoma. When I got there, Kuroo was the first living person to recognize me, and that’s how we met.”

Karasu nickers, turning to nip at Kuroo. 

“Also, Karasu liked him, and that was… like… my entire basis for the judgement of people, because I’m pretty sure my horse is smarter than me.”

Karasu stops nipping and starts preening and prancing, clearly pleased with herself.

“I feel like we’re skipping over the fact that you just said you talked to dead people?” Kuroo says, a little amazed. “You talked to _dead people_?”

“Well, just one.”

Kuroo blinks. “Just one _dead person_.”

“Queen Sugawara Aito.”

The group is stunned into silence, with only Daichi unbothered. He waits a beat, expecting someone to respond, and when they don’t, he says,

“Is that… not... normal?”

“No?” Kuroo squeaks. Bokuto and Akaashi echo the sentiment.

“Well, she was very nice,” Daichi shrugs. “And very helpful, because I was _very_ confused.”

“I was more alarmed by the whole _talked with goddesses_ thing, but maybe that’s just me,” Akaashi says dryly, eyes wide in amazement. “Care to explain that?”

“Not much to explain honestly,” Daichi shrugs. “I went to a church, prayed at the foot of a statue, and something spoke to me and gave me visions of my past.”

“Oh to be an incredible champion of legend whom wild, unimaginable, impossible things just _happen_ to,” Kuroo says, shaking his head. 

“In my defense,” Daichi begins with a wince, “It took me a lot of effort and time to remember what my name was. How was I supposed to remember the goddesses or dead people don’t talk to us normally? To be completely honest,” he has the good sense to wince more, “I didn’t realize that was weird until… uh… this moment?”

“This is why you need us!” Bokuto shouts with delight. “We can tell you when things are wild and crazy and not at all normal!”

Daichi smiles. “Okay. That sounds good.”

“So, to get back to more important topics,” Kuroo says, after a few beats of comfortable quiet. “How _are_ we going to find the lost Divine Beast? It’s been one hundred years since it went missing, and not a single person has been able to find it. Tons of people have looked.”

“Well, I _can_ open doors other people can’t,” Diachi reminds him, tapping his nail against the plate so a soft _tink tink tink_ sounds. “We’ll start where people _have_ looked, and move on to places they haven’t yet, or ran into problems. There’s nothing more we can do. We have to find it, so we will look.”

“That sounds… Time consuming.” Akaashi’s voice is reasonably concerned. While Suga is, effectively, immortal while in this fight with Vol, the mental and emotional costs are far too great to lollygag. Akaashi opens his mouth to say something more, but then closes it again, lips twisted into a frown.

“It probably will be, but it can’t be helped. We’ll save that one for last, but we need that Divine Beast.” He was going to add that the dead queen told him so, but decided against it at the last moment. “Hopefully, by that point, we can gather more information. Find someone who knows something, or knows someone who knows something. We’ll go as fast as we can afford.”

“So, which Divine Beast are we going to now?” Bokuto says, with wide eyes.

“Do we know which one was closer to the Divine Beast that went missing?”

“I’m… I’m pretty sure Karasuno was closer,” Bokuto says thoughtfully. “Karasuno is over in the mountains, whereas Aoba Johsai is on a flat plain with some forests. It would make sense that a hidden temple could be in the mountains.”

“I thought Vah Ukai was nowhere near Karasuno when it went into hiding,” Akaashi says, and the others all blink at him. “Was I the only one who sought out the legends?” When no one responds, he shakes his head and continues. “I know I’m more literature-inclined then some, but really, guys? _None_ of you tried to discover more about what happened?” Another beat of silence. “Vah Ukai went into hiding, Vah Takeda is in Karasuno, and Vah Mizoguchi is in Aoba Johsai. Vah Yamji, which you’ve met, was in Fukurodani. Vah Ukai and Vah Takeda were particularly good at working in tandem, so Queen Sugawara ordered that they train together. When Vol attacked, she ordered Vah Ukai to go to the far corner of the kingdom to protect the nomadic tribes there, as they had no means of defense against Calamity Vol, unlike many cities closer to the castle. It went missing there. Very few saw it leave, because the tribes fled into hiding when Vol attacked.”

Daichi bites his lip. “That’s…. problematic. To say the least. I was counting on _someone_ seeing it leave.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Akaashi lowers his gaze. “I have no doubt that we will be able to find it. As you said, we don’t have a choice. I would just caution you against getting your hopes up on relying on others for this task.”

“We still haven’t gotten any closer to figuring out our next step,” Bokuto says with a frown. “We’ve been talking around in circles.”

“Does anyone here have a map?”

Kuroo pulls one out of his saddlebag and hands it to Daichi.

Looking at it, with the castle in the center, it doesn’t take long for him to figure out where all the Divine Beasts are. It’s as though Queen Sugawara was looking to surround Vol by putting a Divine Beast on each side of the castle. The one to the northwest was Vah Yamji. Vah Mizoguchi is to the northeast of the castle. Then Vah Ukai to the south west, and Karasuno to the southeast. This means, like Bokuto said, none of the Beasts are  _ close _ per se, but some are certainly closer than others. It seems they will circle the castle, and then attack.

“Let’s go to Aoba Johsai next,” Daichi says. “It’s far, but not as far as Vah Takeda is from here. We’ll go to Karasuno after Aoba Johsai, then find Vah Ukai after that.”

Kuroo grins. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Aoba Johsai it is.” Bokuto gives Daichi a thumbs up, which looks… interesting with his feathers.

“That seems wise to me,” Akaashi says with a quiet smile.

“Excellent.”

The road to Aoba Johsai is long and annoyingly, obnoxiously boring.

Daichi finds himself dozing off in his saddle more than once.

Everything is just so… _flat_ . It makes visibility _excellent_ , but… it’s so dull. Daichi rather liked the rolling hills and dense forests of Nekoma, and the mountains of Fukurodani. There’s only so much grass one can think is interesting before it all starts to blend together, after all.

The forests they do pass through are sparse, which doesn’t make it any less boring.

The good thing is, of course, that they see the city, and by extension, the Divine Beast, long before they arrive. The bad thing is that the city looks _far_ closer than it is, and Daichi would like to just _get there_. He wants to clap his heels against Karasu’s sides and ride as hard and fast toward the city as he can.

But the other horses would not have a prayer of keeping up with Karasu’s speed or stamina. They've been riding with very few breaks for days now, and all of the other horses are looking exhausted, even though they’ve gone no faster than a walk the entire time, sometimes even dismounting to give the horses a break while they walk alongside.

They’ll probably need to take another, longer break soon. They can’t have horses collapsing from weariness. That is… simply not an option. But Daichi wants to _hurry_. He can see the Divine Beast. They’re so close.

It’s with great reluctance that he tugs on Karasu’s withers, and she stops almost immediately. The others pull their horses to a stop as well, watching as Daichi dismounts. The sun is sinking below the horizon anyway, he internally sighs. They all need to sleep too.

“We’ll rest until morning,” he says quietly. “I’ll take the first watch.”

Karasu headbutts him, snorting. With her head, in a gesture alarmingly human, she nods toward the ground. 

“Or Karasu will take first watch,” Daichi gives her a tired smile, “but she _will_ wake me up when she gets tired, and I will take the _second_ watch so she can sleep.”

She nickers, and it sounds enough like a chuckle that the others all turn and stare.

“Are you sure that horse is really a horse?” It’s Bokuto who asks this. “She seems… a little too human to be a horse.”

Karasu snorts in distaste, seemingly taking offense.

“She’s really a horse. She’s just also _really_ smart,” Daichi grins. Karasu lets out a loud breath, satisfied with that explanation.

They go about setting up camp, building a small fire and making a meager soup. They eat slowly, without hurry, and then settle in to sleep.

The dawn comes with a warm breeze riding it, and Daichi wakes slowly. He had hoped to see Suga, but his dreams were filled with guardians and horses, and guardian horses, and horse guardians and frankly it’s all too unsettling to think about any longer.

He does wake with vague irritation, though. Karasu never woke him up. Which means she didn’t sleep all night.

She looks all too happy with herself when he glares in her direction.

“Damn horse,” he grumbles, before setting about rekindling the fire. 

Kuroo wakes a few moments later, jolting awake with a startled expression.

“You okay?” Daichi says, careful to keep his voice down. Both harpies are still asleep, after all, and given the expression on Kuroo’s face.

He stares at him blankly for a long moment. “Yeah,” he breathes finally, seeming to finally remember where he was. “Yeah… I’m okay. Bad… dream. I think.”

“Are you unsure about the _bad_ or unsure about the _dream_ part of that?” Daichi gives him a confused smile.

“Uh… Both?” Kuroo’s eyes take on a distant look. “It was kinda weird.”

“Weirder than me meeting with and having complex, two-sided conversations with the crowned prince of the kingdom in dreams? Or meeting dead people?”

“Well, probably not weirder… But probably just as weird.” Kuroo shakes his head. “I think… I think I saw…” He shakes it again. “Putting it to words is even weirder than the dream itself.”

Daichi just waits.

“I… I think I had a vision?” Kuroo sounds just as surprised by the words coming out of his mouth as Daichi is. “I… I saw us… Me, you, Bo, and Akaashi, I mean… We were riding toward this… This city. I _think_ it was Aoba Johsai? The flags looked really familiar. The blue… the blue was the same color as some of the knights’ banners that come from that area. We were riding toward this city, asking after the heir of Champion Oikawa, because we wanted to find any background information about the Divine Beast that we could, but every time we asked about them, the people we were asking got _really_ weird about it. They would start ignoring us, or refusing to sell to us or let us stay in their inns.”

“That’s strange,” Daichi murmurs. “Did anyone tell us why?”

Kuroo hums, tapping his fingers on his knees. “Eventually. Apparently, Oikawa Tooru, the great grandson of Champion Oikawa, has been arrested and imprisoned by the Duke of Aoba Johsai indefinitely.”

“ _Imprisoned_?” Daichi blurts, stunned. He had expected obstacles of many kinds, but legal obstacles had not been ones he had thought too much about. “What for?”

Running his hands through his hair, Kuroo shakes his head again. “Apparently, according to the one person who was willing to even talk to us, Oikawa Tooru had been imprisoned for reckless endangerment and illegal approach of Divine Beast Mizoguchi.”

Daichi blinks, processing. He’d almost forgotten that this might only be a dream. “So, the person we need to talk to might be… a criminal.”

“And an orphan, if the woman is to be believed. Neither of his parents or grandparents are alive anymore. All of them, again, if this random woman is to be believed, died trying to tame Vah Mizoguchi, which is why the law was passed in the first place.”

“What did we do? How did we respond?”

Kuroo simply shakes his head. “We had just been granted an audience with the Duke, the doors opening to his chambers, when I woke up.”

Daichi hums. “Okay. So, on the off chance that wasn’t just a dream, tell me the moment things start looking familiar. If you see even _one_ person who was the same as in your dream, tell me. If it turns out that it _was_ a vision, we’ll just go straight to the Duke and bypass talking to anyone else.”

“Thanks for not calling me crazy,” Kuroo murmurs, rubbing his face. “I know how it sounds.”

“Kuroo, you’d have to _work_ to sound as crazy as I do and I’m not even aware I’m doing it half the time. You have nothing to thank me for. You hadn’t even known me a full day yet when I told you that I met Prince Sugawara in a dream and had a discussion with him. You didn’t even flinch.”

Kuroo chuckles dryly. “To be completely honest, I thought at first you were just remembering meeting with him in the past, but I didn’t want to crush your hopes, so I played along. It wasn’t until we saw Prince Sugawara in Vah Yamji, and then you saw him again in your dreams afterward that I believed you.”

“Well, I believe you’re unsettled, and that you aren’t convinced it was just a dream, and that’s enough for me. I’m not saying I’m completely certain it isn’t just a dream, but it wouldn’t surprise me if you weren’t just dreaming a hyper-realistic series of events.”

Kuroo smiles. “Fair enough.”

Daichi turns Kuroo’s words over and over in his mind, trying to make sense of them. He _thinks_ he outranks a duke… Right? He’s the crown prince’s right hand man. That has to come with privileges, right? 

One of those should definitely be ignoring laws about Divine Beasts, which dukes would have no control over or jurisdiction.

They’re riding into an outlying village when Kuroo pulls his horse to a halt. His gaze is _locked_ on a woman hanging laundry on a clothesline. “She was there,” he mouths, not bothering to see if anyone was listening or looking.

“What did we say in the dream?” Daichi asks, softly. The harpies look at them in utter and complete confusion.

“What?” Bokuto says, voicing the aforementioned confusion. “What dream?”

Kuroo dismounts, walking up to the woman. Conversationally, he greets her, then asks in a kind and unassuming voice, “Do you know where we might find the family of Champion Oikawa?”

The woman pales, dropping her basket and fleeing to her house.

Kuroo turns back to Daichi, and Daichi can _see_ the panic on his face, which answers his question before he can even ask.

That wasn’t just a dream.

Oikawa Tooru is a criminal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lil bb cliffhanger :D
> 
> again, i hope you enjoyed, and I hope you all are doing well and that you have a great weekend!!
> 
> EDIT: I actually made a map for this piece, which i'll attach to the next chapter so yall can see it too, but i realized i goofed the directions up a bit so i switched them so they match my map... not that anyone will most likely notice or particularly care, but i thought i would say something in case you did :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the duke and criminal Oikawa Tooru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'll never guess who's putting off working on her grammar final by writing haikyuu fics. never. you have no proof. me posting three things in two days is not proof.
> 
> anyways here's another chapter! I was really excited for this one, so i really hope you all like it! now that my classes are (finally) ending, i'm hoping i'll be able to write more, so we'll see if my motivation holds out!!!
> 
> i'm trying to figure out how to attach the map of hyrule i edited for this world but i'm not entirely sure i did it right? if it doesn't show up for you i'm very sorry i'm trying my best

The knowledge is startling, but Daichi, in the end, just shrugs. He doesn’t know Oikawa Tooru, and certainly doesn’t know the duke of this region. He doesn’t even remember Champion Oikawa, whom he actually knew and presumably had a relationship with. It’s sort of inevitable that some of the people they encounter are unpleasant.

“So it’s not a dream,” Daichi says, and Kuroo nods. “That’s okay. Don’t panic on me, Kuroo. This is fine. You’re actually saving us time and energy and confusion. We’ll head straight to the fort.”

“Why would he be panicking?” Akaashi asks calmly.

“What dream?!” Bokuto repeats at the same time, less calmly.

“Kuroo had a vision,” Daichi says quietly, meeting the gaze of both harpies. “It’s fine. Nothing bad happened. Or is going to happen. I don’t actually know how visions work. Doesn’t matter. There’s no reason to panic. We can only live in the present, so focusing too hard on the future or too much on the past does no one any good. Just keep your eyes on what’s happening right now. That’s all we can do, so let’s do it well.”

Akaashi smiles. “It’s in moments like these your true age shows, Sir Daichi.”

Kuroo looks a little calmer now. “Right… You’re right. Sorry.”

“No worries, just tell me if anything starts looking drastically different, or if you think we should change plans.”

Kuroo nods dutifully.

Bokuto leaps at the opportunity to discuss the vision, and Akaashi, seeing as they’re riding the same horse, has to listen in, so Daichi leads the way at a meandering pace. 

Children gaze up at Karasu in pure wonder, which, of course, leads to Karasu prancing and preening all the way through the town. She loves the attention. When a small girl crying and running away from her parents comes teetering under her hooves, Karasu stops stock-still mid-stride, letting the girl cling to her leg. She scream-cries as her parents try to pull her off, but Karasu just waits patiently, then nuzzles the girl’s cheek, nickering in her ear. Slowly, the girl calms down, burbling what sounds like mostly nonsense to Karasu, who whuffs and snorts at all the right moments. In the end, she returns to her parents willingly.

Daichi gives her an affectionate scratch under her mane. “Good job,” he murmurs. “You did amazing with that girl.”

She turns her head enough to look Daichi in the eye, and Daichi swears on the goddesses, he sees her wink.

Or it might have just been a blink.

But it _felt_ like a wink.

As they get closer to the fort at the center of the city, the more and more pale Kuroo gets. He doesn’t point out people or instances anymore, but when Karasu gets spooked by a firework, he goes almost green.

Clearly, this is all happening all too perfectly. Daichi understands the nerves. Not knowing more about who they’ll face when they meet with the duke is nerve-wracking, especially knowing the person they need to speak with is in the duke’s custody. It’s probably scary, too, because suddenly getting visions about the future would be startling for anybody. If Daichi woke up knowing what was going to happen any given day, he would be scared too. Especially if he was travelling with one of his best friends and two new friends, and their lives could very well be threatened by the things he saw.

He tries to reassure Kuroo anyway, though. There’s only so much he can say without talking out of his ass, but he does his best. Worrying will do nothing for them, because it’s not like they have much of a prediction to go on.

There are some more obvious benefits to Kuroo’s vision, though. Because they don’t try to bring up Oikawa again to anyone else, the innkeepers let them stay overnight. The beds are comfy and warm, and he is tired and his muscles ache.

Turns out, riding for days on end makes one’s rear hurt.

Crazy.

The food, too, is good and warm, and they eat slowly. “We’ll reach the fort before noon,” Daichi says quietly, so that no one can eavesdrop. “I’ll tell them who I am, and ask for an audience with the duke. I’ll try to get you three in with me, but if I don’t, let’s plan on meeting up at the nearest inn to the fort’s main entrance.”

“Sounds good,” Bokuto garbles, around a mouthful of bread. “By the way, don’t be afraid to get nasty with the guy if he’s a jerk. You’re… like… almost a bigger deal than the royal family. Especially to people in outlying villages. You were a peasant who became a member of the royal household. You’re… like… the _dream_ for people out here. Even harpies, who don’t always interact too well with the outside world, respected you, even before you saved them.”

“Seriously,” Kuroo rumbles. There’s a look of pure determination on his face. “Don’t be afraid to pull rank. You’re too polite, half the time. You’re under orders from the Queen, who was beloved and insanely respected. Hearing that you spoke with her spirit would not surprise many of these people at all. They thought the sun rose and set on her.”

Akaashi hums. “But do not be rude without cause. We will need all the allies we can acquire, and Aoba Johsai is a big city. We cannot afford any unnecessary hostility.”

Daichi laughs. “Got it, guys. Don’t worry so much, alright? I do have _some_ common sense tucked away in my brain. Might have to dust off the cobwebs, but just because it’s antique doesn’t mean it doesn’t still work.” He smiles at them. “I appreciate the advice, though. I’m glad you’re all here.”

Bokuto grins. “You’re gonna do great!” He exclaims, practically falling out of his seat with how excited he is. “And we’re gonna meet a criminal!”

Akaashi gives him a nudge with his shoulder. “You’re being too loud, Sir Bokuto. You will cause a scene.”

“Sorry, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto mumbles, quieting immediately.

Kuroo raises his brows and looks at Daichi, who simply shrugs.

“Anyways, I was trying to figure out exactly what we’re going to try to ask for,” Daichi says, refocusing the conversation. “I don’t want to go in there without a clear goal in mind. We’re just looking for a chance to speak with Oikawa, correct? Is there any reason we would need him to come with us?”

Kuroo frowns. “Unlikely. Outside of originally being our best candidate for the new pilot, since he would have grown up with stories of his great grandmother, unless he’s like an _incredible_ warrior, we probably won’t need him.”

“On the contrary,” Akaashi says, “I don’t think we should write off anyone who is not a warrior. Everyone has their own strengths, and this is a group of people who need as many and as various strengths as they can acquire. Unless he is wholly and unrelentingly unpleasant, I believe we should keep an open mind. Perhaps he’s a talented diplomat, or well-versed in the research of our ancestors and their technology. People are not so simple as _bad_ and _good_.”

“You raise a good point,” Daichi nods. “I agree. I also agree that fighting prowess is a skill that we need in bulk, as the hardest part of this adventure will undoubtedly be the fight against Vol, but there’s certainly other aspects of our journey to consider. Even someone who has spent a good portion of their time pouring over maps would be of great use to us, seeing as I don’t remember this kingdom at all, and none of you three have travelled all that extensively. Hell, even a bard might be a good addition. They might make camping more enjoyable, at the very least.”

“Can you imagine walking alone in the middle of a dense forest at night and out of nowhere, hearing the soft strums of a banjo? That’d be terrifying. No one would dare approach us,” Kuroo snickers. “The best robber repellant in the world.”

“Or an accordion!” Bokuto perks up. “Though, those probably wouldn’t be as scary.”

“A flute might be pleasant,” Akaashi murmurs, considering. “It would certainly fulfill the haunting role from further away.”

Daichi sighs. “I’ll put a band on our list of requests from the duke,” he says dryly. “So, we’re in agreement that we should assess Oikawa as a person before making too many requests of the duke?”

He gets three nods.

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath, taking the last bite of his breakfast and gulping down his water. “Then, let’s head out.”

The wall surrounding the fort is intimidating… and surprisingly white. The brick glistens in the morning sun, white and nearly blinding. It is pretty though, in a way Daichi wasn’t really expecting. It’s clean and not the least bit foreboding.

They ride up to the gate, and the guards are subtle in the way they stop their approach. “Good morning,” the one to Daichi’s right says, smiling up at him. “Your horse is a monster, sir. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a horse that big, and her musculature is stunning.”

Karasu huffs proudly, standing taller as she swats a bug with her tail.

Daichi chuckles and rubs her neck. “Karasu is a breed all her own. None quite like her.” He looks down at the guard. “My name is Sir Sawamura Daichi. I’m the appointed knight of Prince Sugawara Koushi. I would politely like to request an audience with the duke of this fine city.”

The guards gape like fish out of water. “What?” the one to the left stammers.

Daichi smiles. “My name is Sir Sawamura Daichi, and I would like an audience with the duke of Aoba Johsai. Is it possible that we could get that arranged?”

“Scary,” Kuroo whispers to Bokuto, who hums his agreement. 

Daichi fights the urge to snort.

“Right,” says the first guard, “Sir… Sir Sawamura… Like… the Hero?”

Daichi grins. “Exactly like the Hero. I have Prince Sugawara’s blessing. He would like me to regain control of the Divine Beasts and assist him in the attack on Calamity Vol. If need be, I can come back later?”

Both guards pale. “No!” The second squeaks, “We’ll alert the duke right away! Thank you for coming!” The second guard sprints away, armour clanging and crashing.

The first guard looks mildly betrayed as they’re left alone with Daichi and his group. Bokuto has (his version of) mercy on the guard though, leaping from his and Akaashi’s horse in a blur of feathers and a loud shout of “ _HEY HEY HEY!_ ”

The guard squeaks as Bokuto slings a wing around their shoulders. “Oya! That’s a short sword!” Bokuto exclaims, drawing the guard’s sword. “Can you teach me to spar with it?! I’m good with a longsword and a spear, and most other long range weapons, but I haven’t had the opportunity to learn short range yet!”

The guard’s shock seems to shift. “You fight with a longsword? But you’re a harpy? Don’t harpies only fight with bow, javelin, and spear?”

Bokuto cackles, which seems to ease the guard’s nerves a bit. “We usually do, don’t we? Well, I wanted to get better as a warrior, and now that I’m fighting on the Hero’s team, I need to be as adaptable as I can be! Just because I was born a harpy doesn’t mean I can’t learn to fight like you! Short swords have lots of advantages!”

The guard seems awed by Bokuto’s cheeriness and optimism. “Well, I don’t know if I can teach you _everything_ about fighting with a short sword, but I can teach you what I know!... Could… could you teach me about spear-fighting?”

Bokuto grins, golden eyes shimmering. His body sings with excitement. “Hell yeah!” He looks up toward Daichi, hope written all over his features. “Can we go train?”

Daichi takes a deep breath, unable to fight the affectionate smile. “I have no problem with you training with this kind guard. However, I do have a problem with you abandoning Akaashi on top of a horse he can neither ride properly nor easily dismount, and I imagine the duke will have a problem with his guard abandoning his post, no matter how innocent or well-intended the reasoning.”

The guard seems to deflate. “You raise an _excellent_ point, Hero,” they murmur, raising their glove to their mouth to bite in anxiety. “I would… I would get in a _lot_ of trouble for abandoning my post. I… I really should stay here. But when I am relieved, I would love to train with you, Sir!”

Bokuto grins, “Sounds good! Come find me when you’re done!” Without warning, he leaps back onto his and Akaashi’s horse, positively shivering with excitement. “I’ve been wanting to learn more about fighting with short swords _forever_.”

The second guard comes running back out, pausing briefly to pant, before announcing, “The duke, duchess, and their son will see you now. They welcome you gladly and wish to extend their hospitality to you and yours, Hero, for as long as you may need it. The guards here are ordered to let you and your party move as you wish within the fort and within the city, as an apology for being made to wait.”

Daichi lets out a subtle sigh of relief. He talked a big game, but he had _really_ not been looking forward to facing down the duke (and his family, apparently) alone. He could do it, he knows he could, but he’d really rather not. It’s looking, now, like he won’t have to.

They follow the second guard through the gates of the fort, through to the stables. They dismount, Kuroo and Bokuto letting the stablehands take the reins of their mounts. Karasu, however, simply stares down the one stablehand who dares approach. Daichi chuckles, stroking her nose soothingly.

“Karasu takes care of herself - thank you, though. Just be her thumbs, and that will be enough for her. If she needs anything, she will either get it for herself, or she will find a way to ask for it. Just leave her be, and don’t separate her from their horses. She’s a bit territorial.”

He privately thinks he might be understating it - a stablehand in a tiny village tucked in a river inlet had nearly lost her hand in attempts to close off Kuroo’s horse from Karasu - but he doesn’t bother to scare them any further. Karasu can absolutely take care of herself, but Daichi trusts her to not do anything that would destabilize their mission. 

The stablehands all nod in mild terror, and Daichi turns to follow the guard toward the main building of the fort. They are greeted by tall, beautiful arched windows, with glimmering stained glass - ivy with broad, bright green leaves with ombres of teal and blue in the background. It complements the white stone for a face of pure beauty.

“The fort has not once been taken in five hundred years,” the guard says, noticing their lingering eyes. “It is, in many ways, the jewel of Aoba Johsai. We are very proud of it, and work together to keep the stonework in good condition. It has served to be a uniting force. Regardless of what hardships come upon us, the fort pulls us together, keeps us safe, reminds us that we share our hardships and struggles.”

Daichi smiles warmly. “That truly is something to be proud of. Rarely do you hear about what unites a people, and even more rarely is that uniting force so beautiful.”

The guard grins. “Thank you, Hero.”

They soon come upon a set of double doors, tall with dark wood with swirling grain. The door is guarded by not two, or four, but six guards, all armed to the teeth. They step aside harmlessly at their approach, however and Daichi leads the way through the doors after their guide steps aside.

The duke and duchess smile brilliantly at their approach. The duke’s salt-and-pepper hair is spiky and wild, and the duchess has a long, dark braid which falls down her shoulder. “Greetings, Hero,” the duchess greets, ducking her head in a subtle bow. “My mother told stories of you for the whole of my youth. It is truly an honor to stand before you today.”

The duke nods. “We had never imagined you would visit us.”

Daichi smiles. “I’m glad to be here. You have a beautiful city with kind, welcoming citizens. I am here to take the Divine Beast back for Prince Sugawara, and I was hoping to speak with Vah Mizoguchi’s original pilot’s heir, Oikawa Tooru. I have come to understand that he is a criminal?”

The duke and duchess blink at him for a moment, then simultaneously snort and burst out laughing. “Hajime!” The duchess calls and a young man, approximately their age, comes walking out of a nearby door. “What have you done to poor Tooru this time? The citizens are calling him a criminal!”

Hajime’s brow ticks. “The dumb bastard went after Mizoguchi again and nearly got himself killed, so I locked him up in the dungeon and wrote a new law against what he did to piss him off. I’ll repeal it when he apologizes.” There’s a little satisfied smirk on his face. It fades with his next words. “He thinks he’s got a way to stop it, this time. He’s really sure.”

The duchess snorts again, hiding her laughter behind her hand. “Hajime!” She scolds, but there’s no heat behind the name. “You know Tooru is only doing his best, sweetheart.”

“Doing his best to get his dumbass killed,” Hajime growls, then seems to notice Daichi and his party. “Who are you?”

The duke clucks his tongue. “Don’t be rude, Hajime. These are esteemed guests who more than deserve your respect.”

Daichi, who instinctively likes Hajime for reasons he cannot put words to, steps forward and holds out his hand. “Sir Sawamura Daichi, appointed knight of Crowned Prince Sugawara Koushi, prophesied Hero of Haikyuu. Nice to meet you.”

Just watching the man’s jaw drop is enough to make Daichi grin. Hajime coughs. “I’m… I’m Iwaizumi Hajime… My friends call me Iwaizumi or Iwa, usually. It’s… well… I’m honored to meet you. We all thought you were dead.”

“According to Prince Sugawara, I basically was,” Daichi says easily. “The duke and duchess implied you might be the one to talk to if I were looking to speak with Oikawa Tooru?”

Iwaizumi’s jaw drops. “Oikawa’s gonna shit his pants _._ ”

“Hajime!” The duke snaps. “There is no need to be crude.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Sorry, Dad, but I’m just warning the Hero that Oikawa’s not gonna smell like roses.” He then glances around. “Does Saori know yet? Or Yuna?”

“Saori’s Tooru’s older sister,” the duchess whispers. “She and Tooru are very close, but very different in personality. Yuna is their mother,” She winks, and if Daichi was supposed to understand what that meant, it went clear over his head. What he does understand though, more clearly by the moment, the rumor mill in Aoba Johsai is not nearly as reliable as Kuroo’s vision led them to believe.

“If she doesn’t yet, she will soon.” The duke seems unconcerned. “You know Saori. She will support him.”

Iwaizumi frowns. “Yeah, that’s kinda what I’m worried about.”

“Duke and Duchess,” Daichi says after an awkward quiet. “I’m afraid I’m not sure how to address you.”

“Oh, we never introduced ourselves!” The duchess cries, smacking her forehead with her palm. “I’m Duchess Iwaizumi Nuriha, and this is my husband, Duke Iwaizumi Ritsu. Hajime here is our son, who has just recently been knighted.”

“It is an honor to meet you,” Duke Ritsu says again, smiling warmly. Daichi can see it is from his father that Iwaizumi Hajime got his eyes and eyebrows. The glittering dark blue irises and thick dark brows are unmistakable. “Would the other members of your party like to introduce themselves?”

When no one else volunteers to go first, Kuroo steps forward, more than a touch awkwardly. “My name is Kuroo Tetsurou. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He offers a stiff bow.

“He is the great grandson of the primary researcher of Queen Sugawara Aito. I’ve chosen him as my primary advisor for my travels,” Daichi says with a smile. Kuroo straightens in pride, and Daichi can feel his smile. “He has been there since the day I woke in the shrine, and has been a valuable ally.”

“My name is Bokuto Koutarou!” Bokuto greets, not bothering bow. “I’m the grandson of the first pilot of Vah Yamji!”

“He is who I’ve chosen to pilot Vah Yamji again, when it is time to take on Calamity Vol. His prowess in battle and positive attitude is unmatched.” Daichi smiles as Bokuto shows off his biceps (which, in fairness, are considerably girthy and worthy of acknowledgement) while grinning at the duke and duchess.

“I am Akaashi Keiji,” Akaashi says quietly, letting his head dip. There’s a moment of silence as the whole room waits for him to continue, but he says nothing further.

“Akaashi is another of my advisors. I have yet to see him in combat, due to his unfortunate luck the past moon, but I have no doubt he will exceed any expectation I set for him. His level head has proven to be a valuable offset to our group’s more… _chaotic_ tendencies. I have truly been fortunate in the company I’ve managed to keep, in all three of these men.”

Duchess Nuriha smiles brightly. “Welcome to you all.”

Iwaizumi shifts his weight from foot to foot. “You’d really like to meet Tooru? He’s been in a dungeon cell for the past three days… I could let him out and make sure he’s clean.”

Unsure of the best way to answer that, he simply shrugs. “Whatever is easiest on you. I must admit, dropping in uninvited and without warning is not my favorite way of meeting new people. While we are in somewhat of a hurry, I don’t wish to cause any discomfort.”

Iwaizumi seems to mull it over for a moment. “After the sun-high meal, I can ensure he will be ready to talk with you. If you wouldn’t mind, however, I would like it to be… something of surprise. I’m sure it will come as no surprise to you that Oikawa is… rather in awe of you.”

“Of me?” Daichi says, more than a little surprised. “I haven’t done anything.”

Iwaizumi snorts. Then pauses, when Daichi doesn’t laugh. “You’re joking.”

Kuroo steps in, putting a hand on Daichi’s shoulder. “The Shrine of Resurrection stole all of his memories, unfortunately, so he’s really not joking. As far as he remembers, he really hasn’t done all that many impressive feats. Though he _did_ just defeat Vol and take back Vah Yamji, which I think classifies as awe-inspiring.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen. “You’re joking. You really… don’t remember anything? And you’re _still_ going after Vol?”

Shrugging, Daichi smiles. “I guess so.”

Grin breaking through like the dawn, Iwaizumi cackles. “Oikawa is _totally_ gonna shit his pants.”

Bokuto seems concerned, glancing between Iwaizumi and Akaashi. “Should… Should we bring extra pants for him? I wouldn’t want to sit in my own poop… or any poop, really. It… it’s probably not healthy for your butt. That’d also probably be pretty embarrassing, when he’s meeting someone he really respects and idolizes.”

Iwaizumi falters for just a moment, then his grin takes a turn for the sharp. “Nah. Let him sit in it. Bastard deserves it.”

Bokuto opens his mouth to disagree, but Akaashi elbows him before he can. “Let it go.”

Duchess Nuriha giggles. “Hajime, try and be nice to Tooru? You know he means well.”

Iwaizumi’s lip curls in distaste. “I know, Mom. His methods are stupid, though.”

“Honey…” she sighs. “Just _try_ and see where he’s coming from. That’s all I ask. Now go and take them to Tooru. They’ve had to wait on us long enough.”

“Fine. Love you, Mom, Dad.”

“We love you too!”

Iwaizumi leads the way out of the hall.

The dungeons are well-lit and surprisingly clean. Seeing as Daichi can’t remember the last time he was in a dungeon, he’s not quite sure why he knows that’s surprising, but it is.

The cells are spacious and all have their own tiny windows, so the prisoners can see the sky. It’s… more pleasant than Daichi was anticipating. Only the prisoners who leap toward the cell door violently are chained to the wall, impeding their attack.

Iwaizumi leads them down toward the end of the hallway, where there’s a particularly large and mostly vacant cell. “Shittykawa, you’ve got a visitor.”

Oikawa Tooru, lanky and scuffed up, looks up from the giant tome he’s reading from, scowling. “There’s no way I have a visitor. You’ve brought these innocent people down here to try and convince me to stop trying, but I won’t be convinced. If you’ve brought them here to witness your apology to me, and to denounce me as a criminal, I’m all ears.” He ends his little speech with a creepy smile, brown eyes glinting.

He rolls his eyes. “Shittykawa, _try_ and contain your trashy attitude. You’re going to want to make a good impression on these people.”

Oikawa’s gaze, piercing and heavy, flicks over to Daichi.

Then his jaw drops.

He turns back to his tome in a frenzy, flipping back through the pages until he finds the one he’s looking for. He looks from the page to Daichi, then back to the page, over and over, until he seems to find his voice. “Sir… Sir Sawamura?” He squeaks.

Daichi tries to make his smile friendly. “Hello. Just call me Daichi. Sir Sawamura is a bit of a mouthful.”

Oikawa pales. “I’m so sorry, sir!” He tosses the tome to the side, bowing deeply.

The tome falls open to the page Oikawa was looking at, and a _very_ accurate illustration of Daichi's face peers back up at him.

“What were you reading?” Daichi asks, twisting his head to try and read the text. “Oh, and bowing isn’t necessary. We’re not being the least bit formal here. Besides, you have nothing to apologize for.”

Oikawa looks up at him in shock. “Nothing… Nothing to…” He shakes his head. Iwaizumi crosses his arms, clearly enjoying seeing his… friend(?) stammer. “Um… I was… I was reading _Divine Beasts, Legends, and Ancient Technologies_. It’s… basically a history of everything scholars know of all the factors in the war one hundred years ago, and our ancestors who fought the other calamities.”

A little relief loosens the tension in Daichi’s shoulders. “Then you know quite a bit about Vah Mizoguchi, then? I know it was your great grandmother who piloted it one hundred years ago.”

Oikawa’s eyes shine. “Yes! I have done extensive research!”

It’s then that Iwaizumi decides to unlock the cell door, but the excitement drains from Oikawa’s face and he doesn’t move. He refuses to look at Iwaizumi, a petulant pout on his lips.

Iwaizumi growls, then says, “I’m sorry for locking you up, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “And?”

“I’m sorry I dragged you out of danger by your hair.”

“ _And_?”

Iwaizumi snarls. “I’m not sorry for anything else, dumbass! I saved your life!”

Oikawa holds his pout for one more moment, then grins, gathering the tome to his chest (Daichi can only imagine what a book that size would weigh - it’s probably two thousand pages long) and striding out of the cell. “To be honest, I didn’t think he’d even apologize for that much. You must be a good influence, Dai-chan.”

Iwaizumi groans. “ _No._ You’re not extending your stupid pet names to the Hero.” He turns wearily to Daichi. “Aoba Johsai used to have a native language called Seijoh. Oikawa learned it to be stubborn, because he’s an asshole, and the word _chan_ means friend. Oikawa likes to give people he likes nicknames with it. Tell him off if you don’t like it. Maybe he’ll stop for you.”

Daichi shrugs. “If he’ll help us to take back Vah Mizoguchi, I don’t care what he calls me. Besides, it sounds to me like that name is hardly an insult.”

Oikawa squeaks with glee, smile bright. “See?! He understands! Iwa-chan, you’re just stubborn and mean!”

Iwaizumi groans.

Daichi shakes his head. “Oikawa, we’d really appreciate your help. We want-”

“I’m in,” Oikawa grins. “Where do I sign? Is a blood contract needed? Or a magical bond? Let’s do it. I’m ready.”

“Oi, don’t go promising anything before you know what he wants, dumbass!” Iwaizumi snaps. “That’s just bad sense! And you’re _not_ signing a damn blood contract - not on my watch, idiot.”

Oikawa pouts. “Iwa-chan, _mean_.”

Daichi is suddenly _very_ unsure he understands their relationship, but forges on anyway. “Don’t worry, Iwaizumi, I didn’t have any of my party sign contracts. Their word is enough. If they ever decide they don’t want anything more to do with me, nothing is stopping them from abandoning ship. No hard feelings, either.”

While that softens Iwaizumi’s expression, Kuroo’s twists. “Daichi may not have any hard feelings, but I’m not sure I can make the same promise.” He slings an arm around Daichi’s shoulders. “We may not have signed anything, but Daichi’s worth your loyalty.”

Oikawa smiles softly. “You have nothing to worry about, Rooster-hair-chan. I want to help. I have no intentions of abandoning Dai-chan.”

Kuroo smiles, the expression so feline that Daichi stifles a shiver. “Good answer.”

“What exactly do you need him to do, Daichi?” Iwaizumi asks, coming to stand between them and Oikawa.

 _Oh_ , Daichi’s mind whispers. _That’s their relationship. Protective. Affectionate._

“I just need anything and everything he knows about Vah Mizoguchi, and about his great grandmother. Our task is take back the Divine Beasts so we may use them in our fight against Vol. Additionally, since he’s the closest thing to an expert we’ve come across so far, if he has any advice for where to find the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness, I’d be glad to hear it.”

Oikawa is practically vibrating with excitement. “Really?!” He grins. “I’ve read this book cover to cover several times, so I know a lot about both of those topics!”

“He’s not kidding,” Iwaizumi sighs wearily. “I’m pretty sure he sleeps with that damn book.”

“Then let’s talk,” Daichi smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oikawa's my son and i'm love his nerdy dramatic self
> 
> i hope you liked it!!! :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go wrong :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey :D who order angst with a side of drama and a sprinkling of fluff? with a little touch of whump for dessert, with a nice cliffhanger-y glaze dribbled over the top?
> 
> this chapter is for you :)
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE PLEASE READ: this chapter is a bit darker than the others. i can provide a much plainer and less dramatic summary in the comments, if anyone needs it. Please, be safe!! i'll tag as many things as i can think of, but if I forget something, let me know!
> 
> The next chapter will likely be back to the more standard fare chapter :)
> 
> On a less serious note, idk how many of you know what this is or care, but i'm trying to participate in nanowrimo (only in the sense i'm trying to write 50000 words in one month i don't have the attention span to write ONE project lol) and i'm at just under 44000!!! I'm actually AHEAD!!! i'm so excited yall have no idea!!! i've never even come close!!!

Oikawa, it turns out, has done far more research than simply reading the giant book. 

He’s been on and  _ in _ the Divine Beast multiple times. Not through the entrance, he admits, with a cautious look at Iwaizumi, but through an open gap that he rappels down the side to get into.

Iwaizumi punches him for that, and Oikawa makes a big show of expressing his displeasure, but Daichi notices that the spot on Oikawa’s arm Iwaizumi punched is hardly red. Daichi smiles.

For strangers, their bond is pretty transparent. Daichi wonders how long they’ve known one another.

Oikawa continues to explain that he found his great grandmother’s bones in the head. He buried her with all the rights that were owed to her as a Champion of the queen. She died of a wound to the dead, apparently, if the massive crack in her skull is anything to go off of. Probably a result of Vol’s attack - apparently there was red Malice still festering in the marrow of her bones.

Iwaizumi stiffens at this - it’s clear that he didn’t know about that, and his hand finds Oikawa’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

“I can get you on and in Vah Mizoguchi without problem,” Oikawa says confidently. “Honestly, I could probably do it blindfolded. Once we’re inside though, I’m less capable. There’s lots of doors - compartments with who knows what, but I don’t have the means to get in. There’s no fire hot enough to burn through and no blade sharp enough. There are multiple pedestals that I can’t figure out, and it doesn’t help that there’s no Rosetta stone for our ancestors’ written language, so we can’t decode their inscriptions. I guess there’s no telling if it’s a language at all, but the patterns don’t repeat and seem too intentional to not be some sort of inscription.”

Daichi holds up his plate. “I can get us through the pedestals. What are the defenses of Vah Mizoguchi like?”

Iwaizumi crosses his arms. “Flammable,” he says, giving Oikawa a hard stare. “He might be able to get in easily, but the grasses around Vah Mizoguchi would strongly disagree.”

Shock makes him frown. “Mizoguchi is on fire?”

“Not exactly,” Oikawa murmurs awkwardly. “It’s feet are perpetually burning. My theory is the smoke generated is some sort of fuel source, or maybe a safety protocol. The problem is that when it gets agitated, the flames burn hotter and have a higher potential to spill around to the environment. Usually, the plating that the fire burns on doesn’t set much around it on fire, but it spills over when you piss it off. Because it’s just the feet, I can get on it without too much trouble, but it’s caused fires in the past. Fortunately, the area that it basically refuses to leave, the area between Aoba Johsai and the volcano to the south, has basically burned to the ground. There’s no grass left, and hardly any monsters that dare get close, even though Vol controls the Beast.”

“And on Vah Mizoguchi? What are the defenses inside the Beast like?”

“Not too hard to defeat,” Oikawa shrugs. “Lots of tiny guardians, but they’re pretty decrepit, and most of them are missing legs. Apparently Great Grandma went down and brought as many enemies down with her as she could. Half of them can’t even shoot at you, because their eyes are just gaping holes.”

A flash of a warrior, tall with thick chestnut hair which flows down to her waist, the glimmer of triumph in proud, strong eyes, there and gone, flickers in Daichi’s memory, along with a feeling of fondness. He doesn’t remember Champion Oikawa, not really, but he’s struck by the gut feeling that he liked her. 

“Good for her,” Kuroo says, not without sympathy. “If I end up going like that, I hope I take as many of the bastards with me as I can.”

Oikawa smiles at him. “Grandma always talked about how her mom wouldn’t let even death tarnish her pride. If she was going to lose, she wasn’t going to make it pretty.” His eyes grow distant. “Grandma loved her dearly. When she was dying, she fought just as hard to survive.”

Iwaizumi’s smile is all too fond. “Pride and a will to fight runs in his blood, just as it did in his matriarchs.” The smile fades. “Which is why he’s not telling you about why I’ve had to save him  _ three times _ .”

Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him. “The first time doesn’t count, Iwa-chan! I was fine! I wasn’t even in that much danger! I’m not  _ that _ incompetent with a sword! You overreacted because you’re an overprotective meanie!”

“So, you admit you were in over your head the other two times?” He crosses his arms tighter across his chest, eyebrow raised in challenge.

His face sours. “Okay,  _ maybe _ the other two times your arrival was well-timed. Maybe,  _ maybe _ I was outmatched. But that doesn’t mean you have to be rude about it! It’s hardly  _ my  _ fault you haven’t gotten around to teaching me to fight!”

“You can’t put that damn book down long enough to pick up a sword!” Iwaizumi snaps.

“I can too! You can never make the time to train me!”

“What was so dangerous, Oikawa?” Daichi interrupts, sensing this is an argument that could potentially last a long time. “What was so dangerous that you needed help to get out alive?”

Oikawa looks at the floor.

“Vol,” Iwaizumi says without hesitation. “We’re probably some of the only people, aside from yourselves, who’ve faced Vol and survived.”

“We’ve met Prince Sugawara,” Oikawa says softly. “We didn’t believe him when he said you were back.”

Daichi’s head is  _ spinning _ . “You… You’ve met Suga? And fought Vol?”

Irritation lances across Oikawa’s face. “I was trying to do research. I think Vol sensed my presence and decided he’d had enough of me trespassing on his property. It doesn’t help that I think he knew I was related to my great grandma, and therefore I pose a threat. Prince Sugawara is the only reason I survived long enough for Iwa-chan to get there.”

“And I only came because I was hunting and I happened to see the Malice pouring out of Mizoguchi. I gathered that Oikawa was probably aboard, and that it didn’t usually do that when Oikawa was there, and came to make sure he was okay and knew what he was doing. Turned out, neither was the case.”

“On the bright side,” Oikawa says, with a smile, “I found out a  _ lot _ about the way that Vol controls Mizoguchi and what its limitations are when it’s bound to a Beast. I’ve also learned about its fighting style on Mizoguchi. Prince Sugawara says that a different part of it is bound to each Beast, so its weaponry and fighting style is different for every beast.”

Daichi gestures for him to continue. 

He describes the massive, sweeping axe the vaguely humanoid mass of Malice wields, the way that it possesses the same laser eye that the guardians possess. Apparently it floats a bit off the ground, making attacks with swords far more difficult. The longer he survived, the more arms Vol manifested until it was wielding nearly fifteen axes, spinning like a tornado of death. He also talks about how Prince Sugawara managed to stop Iwaizumi from trying to kill Vol himself, though just barely. Iwaizumi had somehow managed to pin Vol’s writhing form beneath him and had raised his sword for a killing blow.

The way Oikawa describes the way Iwaizumi fights is reverent, awed.

Daichi wonders if they know just how much they care for one another.

“Then Prince Sugawara tackled him, endangering both of their lives. He shoved Iwaizumi underneath him, shielding him with his body even though he was smaller. Vol… Vol didn’t attack him.”

Daichi frowns. “Vol didn’t attack him because Vol can’t attack him. Prince Sugawara bound his lifeforce to Vol’s. As long as Prince Sugawara is alive, Vol is alive, but if someone other than me kills Vol, Prince Sugawara will also die. It’s actually self-preservation that Prince Sugawara didn’t let Iwaizumi kill Vol.”

Oikawa hums. “We figured that there was something like that involved. Prince Sugawara told us to run, and pulled rank when we tried to stay. We’re not stupid enough to ignore a direct command from the prince, so we left. I’m… I wish we could say we know what happened to Price Sugawara after that.”

“How long ago was that?” Daichi feels a shiver run up his spine. It’s been longer than that since Daichi had seen Suga in a dream. He has  _ no _ idea how Suga’s doing, or if he’s okay.

“Two days,” Iwaizumi says. “I threw this dumbass in the dungeon when we got back.”

“Which was very rude!” Oikawa whines, fists clenching at his sides. “And very unappreciated!”

“Shut up,” Iwaziumi drawls.

Kuroo comes up behind him, squeezing his shoulder. “Prince Suga’s okay, Daichi. Don’t worry. If Vol’s okay, that means Suga’s okay too.”

Daichi flinches - being read so easily is kind of terrifying - but he nods and relaxes his shoulders a bit. It’s a deception, really - if anyone were to dig their fingers into his shoulders, they’d find stress-hardened, unforgiving knots of muscle.

But that’s not going to change until they take back the Divine Beasts and end Vol’s reign of terror once and for all.

“Oikawa, I hate to ask this of you, but your guidance on and in Divine Beast Vah Mizoguchi would be much appreciated,” Daichi says evenly, ignoring the way Iwaizumi bristles. “You’re an expert and know more about this Beast than any of us. Since I lost my memories, I’m only operating on pure instinct, and especially if this Beast can cause that much destruction with ease, it would be advantageous to have someone who can predict its movements with us.”

Oikawa blinks, his face lighting up in a delighted smile. “Really?!” When Daichi nods, he shouts, “Absolutely!”

At the exact same time, Iwaizumi growls, “Absolutely  _ not _ .”

Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him. “Don’t boss me around! You don’t make decisions for me!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi barks, loud enough that even Oikawa hesitates. “You’re an amazing scholar, and a talented strategist. You’re good at reading people and understanding perspectives that aren’t your own. You, inarguably, have a myriad of stunning talents. But battle? High difficulty battle against a being more powerful than either of us have ever encountered at that? You are not skilled in that way. You think you can help take Vol down, just because one person asked you for help? It doesn’t matter who this guy is, or what he’s prophesied to do!” 

Iwaizumi points squarely at Daichi. “Everyone thought that prophecy was going to come to pass  _ one hundred years ago _ . Your grandma grew up without her mother, because your great grandmother believed in that prophecy. She believed in the Sugawara line and she believed in Sir Sawamura. She died. All the Champions died. So. Many.  _ Died _ . And I’m not going to let your stupid, selfless  _ godsdamned hero complex _ be the reason you join the thousands who believed in that prophecy, and believed in this man and paid the price for their belief.”

His angry, blazing eyes turn to Daichi, and they soften at the look in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that sounds like I’m against you, or what you’re doing, and I’m not. I’m… I’m really not. I hope you succeed. I want you to succeed. But I’m not going to lose my best friend. Vol has taken a lot from me, a lot from my family and my people. I can’t let him take Oikawa.” He takes a deep breath, gaze returning to Oikawa. “I’m sorry,” he says again, but it’s not clear who the words are directed at.

Oikawa’s face contorts with anger, and Daichi dares a glance back at his group. Bokuto is looking anxiously from Akaashi to Kuroo, both of whom are watching the proceedings with cautious gazes.

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” Oikawa says deadly calm. “You have  _ no right  _ to lecture me. To tell me to ignore this, to ignore the Hero, who  _ you _ dropped at my feet, would be to throw away  _ years _ of my life dedicated research for this very purpose. You’re looking me in the eyes and telling me  _ I wasted my godsdamned time _ and that my great grandmother died for nothing.” Oikawa stands up straighter, using every bit of his height to look down on Iwaizumi. “I can  _ do  _ this! I can do  _ something _ ! I  _ have  _ to do something! I’ve spent all of my life doing nothing and now I have the chance to make a serious, real difference and you have no right to take that-”

“I’m your superior!” Iwaizumi roars, but Oikawa does not back down.

“And he’s yours!” Oikawa’s finger is pointed  _ directly _ at Daichi.

Daichi decides he’d really rather be elsewhere in this exact moment.

When Iwaizumi turns to look at Daichi, his burning gaze does not soften. “And? Are you going to command him to come with you, Appointed Knight of the Crowned Prince?” The title is a sneer.

But Daichi sees what’s underneath it, what’s underneath it all.

Iwaizumi is a protector. Oikawa Tooru is his  _ best friend _ . That title, when you’re royalty of any level, is not an easy thing to gain. He sees Daichi as a danger to his best friend, maybe only in the sense of keeping Oikawa alive, maybe also in the sense of stealing Oikawa away. He’s not mad at Daichi, not really. It’s not Daichi’s fault, after all, and Iwaizumi is practical enough to know that. What he is is  _ scared _ . Daichi has the power to rip Oikawa out from under his protection, has the power to keep him in a way Iwaizumi can’t.

Oikawa is plagued by the need to  _ matter _ . He researches and learns and reads and observes anything and everything to do with the prophecy, with Vol, with the Champions. He wants to make a difference. He  _ does _ have a hero complex. He wants to fight the good fight and either dying fighting, or come out a winner. He’s yelling because he’s desperate to prove him, desperate to prove to everyone that he’s more than simply the great grandson of a failed Champion, but that he is Champion-material himself. That his great grandmother did not die because she was weak, but because the time was not yet right. The prophecy was not ready to be fulfilled and fate will not be rushed.

It makes sense. These people are strangers, but they are transparent. They are obvious.

“Okay,” Daichi says, voice quiet and calm. “Breathe. Hear me out.”

Both are panting for breath, eyes trained on him.

“Iwaizumi, I understand what you’re saying. Wanting to be a great warrior and being a great warrior are not the same thing, I agree. Oikawa, I see your potential and know how just much effort you’ve put into becoming this resource for me and Prince Sugawara, and I appreciate it. I don’t think your efforts are in vain.”

Both glance at one another, suspicious. Clearly, this is already not going where either of them anticipated.

“Iwaizumi,” Daichi continues. “I am not asking Oikawa to fight Vol. In fact, I’d much rather he didn’t.” Oikawa’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Daichi holds up a hand. “I’m asking Oikawa to be the scholar he trained so hard to be. I’m asking him to be a historian, a researcher, a scientist. I can’t risk losing him either. From a completely objective standpoint, he is too valuable an asset to lose to Vol right now.”

Iwaizumi gapes. Clearly, he hadn’t considered that.

“Oikawa, to a certain extent, Iwaizumi’s right. You would be putting yourself in a degree of danger  _ none _ of us are talented enough to deal with. While I need you and all your knowledge by my side, you are infinitely more valuable to me alive than dead. That’s not to say your physical presence is worthless, or that you have no fighting skills of your own. I can tell just by looking at you that that’s not true.”

Daichi takes another deep breath. “Here’s my compromise, since I’m not particularly fond of the idea of pissing either of you off: Oikawa, you are more than welcome to join my group. I need your help, after all. However, I think Iwaizumi raises a good point. I need all of my current warriors to help take on Vol. I don’t have the spare force to give you a shield so you can conduct your research. If you’re going to join me, I need you to find a warrior more powerful than yourself to guard your back. Though this isn’t entirely relevant but should be mentioned, Iwaizumi, you’re also more than welcome in my group if you’d like to join. Does that satisfy both parties?”

Iwaizumi crosses his arms, but nods slowly.

Oikawa pouts, but groans out, “ _ Fine _ .” His eyes are calculating, looking for a solution.

Daichi breathes a deep sigh of relief. “Good. Now, I really could use a nap. Watching the two of you go at it wore me out. I’m planning on trying to take on Vah Mizoguchi by tomorrow morning, so if you two could figure out exactly what it is you’re doing as far as it pertains to me by then, that’d be great. I’m staying at the inn tonight. You guys,” he turns to Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuroo, “are welcome to do exactly whatever the hell you’d like.”

Kuroo snickers. “Arson?”

“Mass murder?” Bokuto chirps.

“Tax evasion,” Akaashi murmurs.

Daichi sighs deeply. He  _ really _ needs a nap. “Sure, why not. Go nuts. If Iwaizumi throws you in a cell, your ass is rotting there.”

He leaves.

The innkeeper is very nice and quickly escorts Daichi to a quiet room with a fairly soft bed. The birds are squawking outside in a way that is not relaxing in the slightest, but he dozes off anyways.

_ The clearing is more drab than usual. _

_ Daichi anxiously waits for Suga. _

_ The more time that passes in the grey, unchanging landscape, the more worried Daichi gets. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are fighting, he’s only got one Divine Beast under his belt and he’s insisted the Champion comes with him instead of staying with the Beast to train, he’s got  _ no _ idea who he’s gonna ask to be the next Champion for Vah Mizoguchi, he has  _ no _ idea where the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness is, he’s not sure where the other two Divine Beasts are ( _ especially _ considering one of them is freaking  _ lost _ ), and now Suga’s missing? _

_ Where is Suga? _

_ Faster than it would in the waking world, panic threatens to drown him. He’s barely managing all of this as it is - could he even  _ try  _ to do it without Suga? Would it be selfish to say that he’s only so motivated to do this because Suga’s the only one who really knows him? _

_ He closes his eyes, trying to breathe, but it’s a dream and he can’t breathe and his lungs are clenched shut and his chest is getting tighter and tighter and- _

_ “Daichi?” a soft voice breathes through the cracks in his mental breakdown. “Daichi, I’m here… I’m here, Daichi… Talk to me.” _

Suga _ , his mind celebrates, relief pouring through him like icy mountain water over sore muscles and blistered bare feet. He is trembling. _

_ Suga gently pries Daichi’s hands away from his face, where he had driven the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Daichi,” Suga breathes again, ducking to meet his eyes. “Daichi, I’m here. It’s going to be okay.” _

_ Daichi squeezes his eyes shut, relishing in the ghost of a scent - a hint of roses. It feels right for Suga. _

_ A ghost of warmth touches his bowed forehead. Lips, soft and gentle. _

_ Daichi looks up in surprise, and Suga strokes his cheek. “Daichi,” Suga whispers again. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?” _

_ He opens his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat is hard to overcome. “Everything… Everything is a lot, right now… This… this whole hero thing? It’s really… really hard sometimes… a lot of the time. And then, I heard you fought in Vah Mizoguchi and then you weren’t showing up here but  _ I  _ was here and it all just kinda came together in a perfect storm and-” _

_ Suga hums his understanding, other hand cupping his jaw. “Breathe, Daichi. You can breathe. It’s okay. It’s okay to feel all of those things. It’s okay to be stressed, and to break down, and to hurt. I’m  _ always _ here for you.” _

_ Tears slip down his cheeks, and Suga brushes them away. _

_ “I’ve… been thinking?” Daichi stumbles. “About… about why it’s so random when we meet? In dreams, I mean… I think… I think it relies on us being asleep at the same time, and being the same level of asleep, you know what I mean? Like… Like if I’m dozing, and you’re fast asleep, we… won’t dream together.” _

_ Suga hums again. “That makes sense. Do you think we should try a schedule?” _

_ Daichi nods. He hates how pathetic he’s feeling, but this little mini breakdown has taught him he needs Suga. “How about… every three nights, we go to sleep as close to sundown as we can? Like, not tonight, not tomorrow night, but three nights from tonight?” _

_ He nods, smiling gently. “Let’s try it. Gods know I’m not exactly busy over here.” _

_ “You’re not… You’re not  _ hurt _ , right? Fighting Vol didn’t hurt you?” _

_ Suga giggles. “Of course not, silly. Sure, it was a little uncomfortable, and Vol was pretty volatile for a while after, but other than that, I’m perfectly fine.” He ruffles Daichi’s hair. “Though it’s disgustingly like you to worry about lil ole me right after having a panic attack, you unbelievable oaf.” _

_ “I just felt bad for not asking…” Daichi says, cheeks heating. _

_ “That’s what I mean, dumbass,” Suga grins, pinching Daichi’s cheek. “Now, I think the dream is ending. Remember, I’m always here for you. I’m always thinking about you. I care about you. I know you’re human, Daichi. I won’t be mad if you need a break. I… I love-” _

Daichi wakes in a cold sweat. Kuroo is leaning over him once again, but this time the concern looks more severe than just passing.

“Daichi, are you okay?”

He blinks. Actually, he feels better than he has in a while. He wipes his forehead, then his cheeks. Why does his throat hurt? “Yeah.” His voice sounds like he gargled gravel.

“You were  _ screaming _ , Daichi. Not… Not like  _ I’m having a nightmare  _ screaming, but  _ I’m being tortured _ screaming. The innkeeper ran to the fort crying for help, because they couldn’t get you to wake up. Bokuto came and screamed at you, Akaashi came and shook you, Iwaizumi and Oikawa tried a bunch of things, and nothing would get you to stop.”

Daichi frowns. “Screaming?” That would explain the sore throat.

Kuroo nods. “Not good, man. Like, I thought you were  _ dying _ , not good.”

He winces. “I’m sorry,” though he’s not  _ exactly _ sure what he’s apologizing for.

Shaking his head, Kuroo grabs his shoes, then helps him to his feet. “I’ve asked the innkeeper to make you soup for when you woke up… If you woke up. They should have it ready downstairs. I’m not leaving you alone for a single godsdamned minute until you eat something.”

Daichi snorts, though the action stings like hell. “Wow, Kuroo. Protective much?”

Kuroo pinches his shoulder. “Watch helplessly as your friend screams like they’re being burned alive for half an afternoon and see how protective you get.” The words are sharp, unamused, hurt.

Daichi falters, then has the good sense to wince. “I’m sorry, Kuroo. That was in poor taste. I didn’t mean it like… I just... I really am sorry I worried you - all of you.”

Kuroo lets out a soft sigh. “I know. It… It’s just been a long afternoon, okay? After you left, Iwaizumi and Oikawa started arguing again, I don’t even know what about, and then Bokuto ran off with that guard from the gate and Akaashi went to find a snack and then the innkeeper came running in about someone screaming like they were dying but being unwakeable and I was the closest one so I had to come first and-”

Daichi wraps his arm around Kuroo’s waist and squeezes him close. “Thank you, Kuroo. You’re… You’re an amazing friend. I’m really sorry I scared you and I’m even more sorry that I teased you for being scared on my behalf. That was incredibly insensitive and you  _ should  _ be mad at me for it.”

Kuroo lets out a shaky breath, something, in one universe, might have been akin to a chuckle, and hugs Daichi back. “I forgive you. Please don’t do it again. It… It was really hard to watch, Sawamura.”

Daichi nods solemnly. “I won’t. Thank you for staying with me even though it was hard.”

Kuroo nods, giving him a weak smile. “You’re welcome… So, are you gonna tell me why you spent the better part of an afternoon screaming your head off?”

He clears his throat. He  _ really _ did a number on it - if he can talk tomorrow, that’ll be nothing short of a miracle. Maybe they’ll have to postpone the fight for Vah Mizoguchi another day. “I would if I had even the tiniest sliver of an idea.”

“That’s not helpful,” Kuroo grunts.

“No, it really isn’t.”

They make their way down the stairs, and Daichi jumps when a ball of grey feathers tackles him around the middle.

“DAICHI!” Bokuto cries, distraught. “YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Daichi strokes his back gently. “I’m sorry I scared you, Bo. I didn’t mean to. I don’t even really know what happened.”

Bokuto continues to sob into his stomach. A quiet cough comes from a short distance away. Daichi looks up to see Akaashi. His eyes are piercing.

“Are you okay, Sir Daichi?” He asks, voice betraying how unsteady he is.

“Thank you, I am,” he says with a soft smile. “And, really really, it’s just Daichi. You can drop the  _ sir _ .”

Akaashi gives him a soft smile in return. “Or I could not do that.”

He snorts.

They finally sit down at a table in the gathering room at the inn - Daichi had had to spend a long time apologizing to the innkeeper for the trouble, before they were going to allow the group to stay any longer. Apparently, Daichi’s screaming had been bad for business.

Go figure.

The array of food, pasta and warm bread and fresh fruit, looks amazing. Kuroo hadn’t been kidding about the soup - he watches every bite Daichi takes like a hunting cat. Daichi eats slowly, but steadily, trying to reassure Kuroo as best he could.

Bokuto keeps up the conversation, as he is talented at doing - before he had been pulled away to help with Daichi, he’d had a great time training with the guard, whose name is Otoe, if Bokuto’s memory is to be believed. He feels like he’s made real progress, he says, and that Otoe is a fast learner too.

When Bokuto runs out of things to talk about, it’s Akaashi who picks up the conversation, talking about the various vendors he saw around town, and the various kinds of foods they carry. He’d apparently picked up some medical supplies too - herbs and the like, so hopefully they’ll be prepared if someone does get injured.

Apparently, Iwaizumi’s words struck home with more than just Oikawa.

It’s shortly after this discussion, when they’re about to order some ale, when Kuroo hisses suddenly, pressing his palms to his eyes.

Daichi immediately puts his spoon down, placing a hand on Kuroo’s back. He and Bokuto had taken up twin posts at Daichi’s sides, refusing to leave. “Kuroo, what’s wrong?”

“Headache,” he growls, eyes clenching shut. He shudders, teeth grinding as a low moan works its way out of his throat. The tendons in his neck become more prominent, and his chest is heaving for breath. “ _ Hurts _ ,” he growls, but Daichi is completely at a loss for what to do.

“Give me his hand,” Akaashi orders with enough confidence that Daichi tries to pull Kuroo’s hand away, but every muscle is tight in Kuroo’s body - it feels as though Daichi could sooner uproot a century old tree than shift Kuroo’s arm. 

“He won’t move,” Daichi says, rubbing Kuroo’s back more intensely. It’s only been a few moments, but Kuroo is already drenched with sweat, his skin burning hot to the touch. “Kuroo, breathe… I’m right here… What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

“My  _ head _ ,” Kuroo snarls, hands moving from his eyes just long enough for him to spasm forward and bash his forehead against the table, before he’s driving his palms into his eye sockets once again.

“Gods!” Daichi swears, immediately standing to better restrain Kuroo before he hurts himself even further. Bokuto leaps across the table, spilling all of their drinks and sending their plates and bowls clattering to the floor. He too takes up a position restraining Kuroo, while Akaashi does his best to pry Kuroo’s hands from his face by standing between him and the table which they had effectively shoved aside.

“Kuroo,” Akaashi’s smooth, calm voice cuts through his keening groans. “Kuroo, you’re okay. This pain will pass. I-”

Kuroo throws his torso forward, and Akaashi staggers back, stunned. He scrambles to his feet, about to try again, but Kuroo pitches his body forward in a powerful spasm, and Daichi and Bokuto are only just barely able to hold him back from actually throwing himself to the ground.

Whatever has taken hold of Kuroo does not want to let go.

The innkeeper buzzes around, desperately trying to help, but Akaashi holds them back.

It’s then, in the din of that moment, that Kuroo starts to scream.

Their conversation from earlier hits Daichi so hard, he’s actually winded.

His scream starts low, as though it were coming from his very core, then gets higher and louder, until Kuroo’s face, still partially hidden beneath his white-knuckled fists, goes redder than an apple, and his veins pop out like they’re trying to escape his skin. He doesn’t inhale, doesn’t falter in his scream as it climbs, note by shrieking note, to the point where Daichi wonders if this is going to end with Kuroo passing out from a lack of air. The longer it goes on, the more pained and tormented it sounds, and Daichi finds himself cringing away. 

Humans shouldn’t be able to make sounds like this. Humans should never feel the  _ need _ to make sounds like this. This scream is going to echo in his nightmares for the rest of time, Daichi has no doubt. If he never heard anyone or anything scream like this again, it would be far too soon.

Then it stops, as suddenly as it all began. Kuroo takes one giant breath in, his whole body going limp. His head rolls to face Daichi, and when his eyelids peel back, his eyes are glowing gold.

“Do not leave Aoba Johsai without Oikawa Tooru,” Kuroo mutters, then passes out cold.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New challenges arise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!! happy thursday!!! or, if you're in america, happy thanksgiving!!! i've been having SO much fun writing this recently, which is why there's been so many updates XD hopefully yall aren't getting burnt out lol
> 
> also, i want to give a quick shout-out to everyone who has been commenting?? your comments are literally fueling these fast updates :) i just wanted to say (as it is thanksgiving and it seems appropriate) that i'm super grateful for you!!! the fact you take time out of your day just to tell me, a random stranger on the internet, that you appreciate my writing, is super mind-boggling, honestly, and super appreciated! basically, long story short, yall are the bomb-diggity and i hope you all are having a good week :D
> 
> also i'm a little over 500 words away from having written 50,000 words in the month of november (national novel writing month) and i'm THRILLED yall AAAAH
> 
> anywhozzle, enjoy!!!

They carry Kuroo upstairs, into a room. They have to pay the innkeeper a hefty sum to let them stay, which honestly Daichi can’t really blame them for, but Bokuto offers to cover the bill.

Daichi lays Kuroo out on a bed, wetting a cloth to help down his face and neck. His forehead is reddish purple from where he slammed it into the table, but the skin didn’t break, so it’s nothing more than a goose egg, which, all things considered, isn’t all that bad. He changes Kuroo into clean clothes, then throws a thin blanket over top of him.

He opens the window to let the cool evening breeze in, and all the while Kuroo remains unconscious. Bokuto and Akaashi retire to the room across the hall - that fall did nothing nice for Akaashi’s healing leg, after all - and Daichi insists he’ll stay with Kuroo.

The moon is high in the sky when Kuroo’s eyes peel open. He groans, his voice a low rasp. “Oh, my _head_.”

Daichi feels ice slip into his veins. “Again?” He says, rapidly standing.

Kuroo holds up a hand. “My _forehead_ ,” he clarifies, gingerly poking at his new bruise. “That sucker _aches_. What… What did I do? What happened?”

Everything in Daichi’s body pauses for one breath, two. “Wait… You don’t remember?”

Kuroo looks over at him, rubbing at the muscles in his neck. “I don’t, but my body sure does… and your face says that it wasn’t good. What happened? I feel like I got dragged behind a galloping horse by my toes.”

Daichi shifts uncomfortably. “What do you remember?”

“I… I remember getting a _really_ bad headache, and I… I heard you ask what was wrong, and then… then I think… I think I said something about my head? After that… it all gets really fuzzy.” Kuroo moves on to massaging his biceps.

“You… uh… you were in a lot of pain, and then, you suddenly slammed your forehead into the table, which is how you got that bruise, and then you attacked Akaashi, and… then you started screaming? It… It was really intense. You weren’t breathing or anything, just _screaming,_ and every muscle in your body was tense.”

Kuroo blinks. “I did that? I don’t remember _any_ of that. Not even the pain. I certainly don’t remember attacking Akaashi.”

He nods grimly. “Then you stopped, all of the sudden, looked at me, said something about Oikawa, and passed the hell out. The sun was still above the horizon when you passed out, and it’s almost midnight now.”

Kuroo freezes as though ice had overtaken his veins. His hand pauses in its track through his wild dark hair. “Oikawa… What did I say about Oikawa?”

“You said: _Don’t leave Aoba Johsai without Oikawa Tooru_ , and then passed out.”

Kuroo blinks, slowly. “I didn’t say anything else?”

“Not that I or anyone else in the vicinity heard.”

“I remember… I remember something,” he says quietly, face straining. “It’s… like… an echo of a memory. I think it… I think it was a vision?” He massages his temples, like the motion would induce a more clear recollection. “I can’t… I can’t remember… but… but something about Oikawa… We need Oikawa. He has to come with us for Vah Mizoguchi. I don’t remember why… I’ve got nothing else… But we need Oikawa. I think our victory hinges on him.”

“You don’t remember what will happen if we don’t bring him?”

Kuroo shrugs, wincing at the soreness in his shoulders. “Not a clue.”

“Huh…”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“What are we going to do?” Kuroo says quietly. “What if Oikawa can’t find someone to protect him? Or what if Iwaizumi pulls something so Oikawa can’t come?”

Daichi sighs. “We’ll figure it out. We have enough trouble on our hands, we don’t need to borrow more. Let’s start with trying to figure out why we both spent a considerable portion of our day screaming.”

Kuroo snickers. “Asking the weird questions… _Why did we scream today?_ ” He smiles tiredly up at Daichi before the expression fades. “On a more serious note… Something we had in common is that neither of us were conscious, or at least consciously aware or what was going on. Like… you were actually asleep, and I looked like I was awake, but the lanterns were lit and no one was home.”

“That’s something… With your case, it looked like something was trying to get out of you and you were fighting to keep it in, or something was trying to get in, and you were fighting to keep it out.”

“With you, it sounded like someone was tearing you apart, but you were just lying limp on the bed, so it’s hard to determine exactly what was going on in your mind.”

“The funny thing is,” Daichi says softly, “is that I was meeting with Suga. Granted… I kinda had a mental breakdown, but at no point were either of us _screaming_.”

Kuroo blinks. “You were with Prince Sugawara?”

Daichi shrugs and nods. “Why is that surprising?”

“Do… Do you remember the first time you met with him in a dream?”

“Vaguely?”

“Do you remember what I told you?”

“You… You were worried because I was… I was tossing around in my sleep, right?”

Kuroo nods slowly. “When was the next time you dreamt of Suga after that first one?”

“In the cave, after we took back Vah Yamji.”

The rate at which the blood drains from Kuroo’s face is astonishing. “No kidding?”

Daichi frowns. “No? Why would I joke about that?”

“I didn’t tell you, because I just kinda assumed it was a nightmare - we’ve all got trauma like that and yours in none of my business - but you were tossing and turning again, and like… _sobbing_ , man. I… I kinda tried to wake you up, but I assumed you were just so fast asleep that you couldn’t hear me. You didn’t mention you met with Prince Sugawara again until a couple days later, so I didn’t… I didn’t make the connection.”

Daichi feels his breath catch. “I… I was sobbing?”

Kuroo nods emphatically. “Like, _the person you love most in all the world got stabbed in front of you_ , sobbing. Heartbroken, painful sobs. I was… I was the only one who heard it, because again, I just thought it was a nightmare, and I didn’t want other random people poking their noses in business that wasn’t even mine.”

Dread hits Daichi like a rockslide. “Which means that this last dream with Suga…”

Kuroo meets his gaze. “It means that it’s getting progressively worse, every time you dream with him.”

“But I can’t just _stop_ meeting with Suga?” Daichi says, meaning it as a statement but his uncertainty pulls it toward a question.

But the look on Kuroo’s face is uncompromising. “Daichi, you screamed like you were dying for the better part of an afternoon. What if you wake up bleeding, or with a broken bone? What if the next time kills you? What if you go to sleep and you never wake back up, or the lanterns are lit but everything that makes you _you_ is gone?”

HIs heart genuinely stops for a moment. “But Suga needs me, and I need Suga.”

Kuroo shakes his head. “Sawamura Daichi, you’re not listening to me. Yes, Prince Sugawara needs you. Of course he does. And I completely understand why you need him. But how _sure_ are you that the Prince Sugawara you’re meeting in these dreams is the real prince? What proof do you have? Your memories of him before meeting in these dreams were only vague, right? I don’t know who or what would have the power to do this, but is it possible that something is taking your memories and warping them into something believable, something you’d crave to meet over and over again, while it sucks the life out of you?”

“But… But…” That _can’t_ be right.

“Daichi. The fact that you can’t prove me wrong is proof that I’m probably right.”

“How the hell am I supposed to prove you wrong?” Daichi barks, hating the way his voice gets louder. He shouldn’t be defensive - he _knows_ Kuroo is only trying to help him - but he can’t help it. He _needs_ Suga. Suga needs him. He _knows_ it. “How the hell am I supposed to bring decisive proof back from a dream? I’m not stupid, Kuroo. I don’t think I’m being duped. I don’t think I’m wrong.”

“But Daichi,” Kuroo says softly. “You’re really going to trade a _hopefully maybe_ for your life? Granted, we don’t _know_ it’ll kill you, because gods know that’s easier said than done, but Daichi, you’re vital. Vital to this world, to this quest, to the people around you. You’re my _friend_ , Daichi. I don’t… I don’t exactly have many of those. I’m not trying to say you’re stupid, I’m _trying_ to say you’re human, and that humans get duped sometimes. We’re gullible! It’s in our nature! Especially when the weight of the world’s on our shoulders, we want to believe that the universe is handing us an olive branch, giving us a reason to get back up every time we’re knocked down. I don’t blame you for wanting to meet with Prince Sugawara. On the contrary, I wish I could suggest you do it more! You’re happier and less stressed after you meet with him, anyone can see that. You’re _good_ together - it’s why the prophecy picked you two, after all. Your souls are intertwined and all that garbage.”

“I need you to buy me some time,” Daichi says, meeting his gaze. “When we fight Vol on Vah Mizoguchi, I need time to talk to Suga. He’ll be able to give us the proof we need. If… If you give me time to talk to him, I won’t… I won’t dream with him again. At least, I won’t try to. We’re not entirely sure how it works, so it might happen on accident.”

Kuroo smiles warmly. “Done. I’ll get Bokuto and hopefully whichever warrior Oikawa has inevitably dragged into this mess to help. If you find out that you actually _are_ meeting with Suga in these dreams, we’ll figure something else out, okay? I… I can tell that he’s a big support for you right now. I… _really_ don’t want to take that away from you.”

Daichi smiles in return. “Thanks, Kuroo.” He would do this - fight tooth and nail for his friend, even if it clearly hurt the friend in question, all to make sure he was safe and not being deceived. Once again, Daichi is aware of just how much Kuroo cares.

Surprise flickers across his features, then his smile grows warmer, cheeks flushing pink. “You’re welcome, Daichi.”

Daichi’s about to knock - Duke Iwaizumi said Oikawa and Iwaizumi were in this room, but the door’s cracked and he can hear soft words being exchanged. He holds up a hand to pause Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi behind him.

“... and I’m sorry I said all that shit about your great grandma. I didn’t mean any of it… You know I think your work is amazing and I know it’ll help the Hero.” Iwaizumi.

“And I’m sorry I yelled at you and told you your opinion didn’t matter to me. It does. It probably always will.” Oikawa.

“And I’m sorry I pulled rank on you. It was shitty of me.”

Oikawa lets out the softest giggle - Daichi can barely hear it. “It was.”

“But it was shitty of you to make the Hero take sides by pulling rank _for_ him, so don’t get all high and mighty,” Iwaizumi growls, but it’s so unbelievably fond that Kuroo gags. The only reason he doesn’t give them away is Bokuto clamps a massive feathery hand over his mouth.

“So, we agree that we’re both shitty?” Oikawa asks, a laugh in his voice.

“Yeah. Hug?”

“Hug.”

Daichi, with the slowest movement possible, pushes the door open, just enough to see Oikawa and Iwaizumi embracing tightly. Iwaizumi’s face is hidden in the crook of Oikawa’s neck, and Oikawa’s hands are threaded through Iwaizumi’s hair.

It’s nauseatingly adorable, but it makes relief wash through Daichi like a wave all the same. He had worried (when he wasn’t worried about Kuroo or Suga or saving the world - he only had a few gaps in his worrying schedule) that their fight yesterday would sow a rift that they could never properly close.

He would have _hated_ to be the force that pried two people so obviously close apart.

But he _really_ needs to talk to them, so hesitantly, he knocks on the door.

OIkawa and Iwaizumi spring apart like they were burned, both of their faces flushing _bright_ red. “Morning!” Oikawa squeaks out, hands locking behind his back. “How… how did you sleep?”

Iwaizumi punches him in the arm. “Really? You _know_ they didn’t sleep well. Way to sound like a douchebag, Shittykawa.”

Daichi could roll his eyes, but Kuroo’s rolling his eyes hard enough for both of them, so he decides not to bother with it. Their relationship, when they aren’t yelling at each other and using their extensive history as ammunition, is genuinely hilarious. He chuckles. “Good morning. I’ll be the first to admit we had a rather… hmm…. tumultuous afternoon and evening, but we all ended up getting some good, uneventful shut-eye in the end. How about the two of you? Sleep well?”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi nod in sync. “We… came to an understanding,” Iwaizumi says slowly, glancing at Oikawa.

Oikawa, for his part, grins brilliantly, and turns to grab the tome from where he had set it down on the table. “The solution was staring us in the face the whole time!”

Daichi blinks. That is not what he was expecting. “Okay? And that solution is…?”

“Iwa-chan’s gonna come too!” He says, and Iwaizumi nods, coughing a bit. “He’s an amazing warrior - far and away better than I am - and he’s passionate about this too! He’s helped me with a lot of my research and convinced my mom and sister that it was a good idea too by-”

“That sounds positively perfect,” Daichi interrupts with a smile. He adds, “A match made by the gods,” just to watch them flush darkly again (and if either of them would just _look_ at each other, they would see how pleased they both look). He continues as though they aren’t still recovering. “I’m glad the two of you worked it out. I’ll admit, I was worried.”

Kuroo tugs on his sleeve, turning him to whisper in his ear. “Are we telling Oikawa about what I saw?”

Daichi purses his lips. He can feel everyone else in the room staring at him. “No,” he breathes, meeting Kuroo’s eyes as he pulls away.

“Oikawa! Did you hear that Kuroo had a really scary vision and you were in it!?” Bokuto is bouncing around Oikawa, and Oikawa looks like he’s getting dizzy from trying to follow him.

Oikawa stops though, when Bokuto’s words process, and he turns to Kuroo. “What?”

Kuroo laughs awkwardly, glaring beams of solid disapproval at Bokuto, then says, “Well… I… uh… have had… well… visions? Recently? They… told me where to find you, and that you were a criminal-”

“I probably should revoke that claim soon,” Iwaizumi mutters, and Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him.

“- and… well… I… last night… I had some… some sort of fit? And I guess… I guess I said something about you and how we can’t leave Aoba Johsai without you?” Kuroo finishes with a wince.

Oikawa blinks. “Weird.”

Daichi nods firmly. “Definitely weird. But… I guess it’s not a problem if you’re planning on coming with us?”

Oikawa turns a startled stare on Daichi. “I… I wasn’t actually planning on coming with you, beyond Vah Mizoguchi, I mean.”

Surprisingly, it’s Iwaizumi who speaks. “Oh, bullshit. You were _hoping_ Sir Sawamura would invite you along, but you didn’t want to impose yourself without being asked because you’re the most pompous insecure asshole I’ve had the misfortune of knowing.”

Oikawa’s jaw drops. “Brute! Iwa-chan is a brute! How mean!”

Daichi wonders if this is what passes for flirting nowadays.

Akaashi clears his throat. “I worry, Sir Daichi, about the nature of our party growing bigger with every place we stop. The costs will multiply. I am not sure we have the funding to-”

Iwaizumi waves his hand dismissively. “My parents have already approved this campaign, and they will provide significant funding. Oikawa’s also not exactly poor, and could probably contribute.”

Oikawa squawks about how unfair it is that Iwaizumi is offering funding that is not _his_ to offer, and Bokuto speaks up awkwardly.

“I’ve only got harpy currency,” he says. “Sorry.”

Akaashi shrugs. “I too am currently without human-accepted funding.”

Iwaizumi looks from Akaashi to Bokuto. “Then, I’ll cover for you. No problem. If Mr. Prophet here says you guys need Oikawa, then I’m coming too. Likely, my parents will, if anything, be more approving of my spending if it comes across as I am _improving delegation ties with the harpy province_.”

Bokuto grins, dashing forward to give Iwaizumi a crushing hug he was _clearly_ not ready for emotionally, physically, or spiritually.

Daichi takes a deep breath. “So, we’re ready to go then?”

He gets nods all around, except from Bokuto, since he’s still too focused on hugging the everloving hell out of Iwaizumi.

“It acts like a horse,” Oikawa says, not bothering to be quiet. Apparently, Vah Mizoguchi has eyes, but no ears. “You piss it off, it kicks, spewing fire everywhere.”

Kuroo frowns. “Gotta say, I’ve seen a lot of horses, but even Karasu, the monster horse that she most definitely is, doesn’t spew fire.”

Karasu, whose head is hovering right over Daichi’s shoulder, huffs her emphatic agreement. Judging by the angle of her ears, she does not particularly like Vah Mizoguchi. Her eyes track it ceaselessly, and she stiffens every time its head turns toward them.

“The trick,” Oikawa continues as though Kuroo hadn’t spoken, and if a pale slender hand pinches Kuroo’s thigh, well, that is most certainly not Oikawa’s fault, “is to either climb really fast, or to give it something else to look at. It’s attention span isn’t particularly long, but it’s got a one-track mind. If it sees something flashy or shiny in its space, it’s going to pay attention to that, not whoever is rappelling up its leg.”

Bokuto grins. “Distraction sounds right up my alley. Watch me bamboozle the hell out of him, guys!”

Akaashi sighs, glancing down and tightening his leg brace so it’s more secure. He’s stopped using the crutches now, but is religious about the splint-like brace on his leg. He says it’ll speed his healing process, and frankly, Daichi doesn’t know enough about medicine or healing to say otherwise. 

“I will go with him to ensure he doesn’t bamboozle himself to death,” the harpy says tiredly. As tired as he sounds however, Daichi notes the way his eyes track Bokuto, following the curve of his body, the grain of his feathers. The look is far from spiteful. There’s not a hint of distaste in the curve of his lips.

He grins at them and gives them a thumbs up. What an interesting crew he’s gathering.

The two take off. Vah Mizoguchi is still a fair distance away, after all, and it will take them a while to gather its attention. “I’m going to see if I can find the official entrance into Vah Mizoguchi. Knowing where the entrance is supposed to be might give us an advantage.”

He kneels on the burnt grass, laying out Oikawa’s approximate sketch of the Divine Beast (there are areas, he had admitted eventually, that he had not been able to see, regardless of what angle had approach Vah Mizoguchi from, so he had guessed), including the levels he’d been able to explore in the interior. Where his great grandmother’s body lay appears to be the control room, Daichi thinks, and is _probably_ where they’ll end up confronting Vol again. Because of Oikawa’s lack of plate, however, there’re various rooms and nooks that Oikawa knows the approximate size of, but has no clue of what lies inside.

Daichi is too anxious for anything that might return him some more of his memories to not explore, or at least to try. Honestly, he realizes with a frown, he’s _definitely_ taking for granted the fact that the plate he has has opened as many doors as it has. What if they come across a door it doesn’t open? A door where there’s no other way around it? What will he do? What _can_ he do?

He shakes his head. He _just_ chastised Kuroo for borrowing trouble, and now he’s doing it. He returns his attention to the giant mechanical horse in front of him. The others are waiting for him to give orders, he can tell, just by the looks on their faces.

“We’ll gallop toward it and use the rope to hook into the gap you usually climb through, Oikawa. I’ll go last. That way, the harpies can catch me if I fall, because Vah Mizoguchi will have another distraction queued up. Once I find the entrance, Akaashi, Bokuto and I will meet you all inside. Questions?”

Kuroo eyes the Divine Beast, and then the rope with the grappling hook, which Oikawa has carefully spooled and hung over the horn on his horse’s saddle. “I don’t know if I have the upper body strength for this.”

“That’s not a question,” Daichi says breezily, shooting Kuroo a quick wink. “No questions? Good.”

Kuroo glares at him, but says nothing further. He mounts when Daichi mounts.

“Oikawa, Iwaizumi, you two go first, since you’re the most familiar with how this works. Kuroo, you go after them, then I’ll go. Sound good?”

They nod. Oikawa and Iwaizumi, once they see Vah Mizoguchi’s head rear back at a tiny grey blob in the sky, take off at a gallop. Kuroo waits until they have the grapple hooked securely, before taking off himself.

Daichi waits until Oikawa has clambered into Vah Mizoguchi before pressing his calves into Karasu’s sides, pushing to her a trot. 

Unsurprisingly, by the time he gets to Vah Mizoguchi’s side, Kuroo has already climbed into the Beast. Daichi gives Karasu a quick kiss to her neck, before leaping from her back, grabbing the rope. He swings his legs forward just in time to brace himself so he doesn’t smack into Vah Mizoguchi’s leg.

When he dares look back, Karasu is efficiently herding the other horses away, guiding them to safety where there’s living grass and a healthy distance between them and the fire-spewing mechanical horse.

He mentally breathes a sigh of relief. Iwaizumi, upon hearing this plan, had been more than a little concerned about their mounts. Daichi had assured him that likely, Karasu would take care of them, but those had just been words, and though he had _asked_ Karasu to do so, that was hardly a guarantee the gargantuan horse would do so.

He climbs until he reaches the window the others had slipped in through, awkwardly bracing himself on the sill and pulling the hook free. He almost falls backward in surprise when hands curl around his ankles.

Kuroo had grabbed his ankles to anchor him in case he leaned too far back, but instead had scared the everloving hell out of him. 

And now he’s giggling about it.

Daichi shakes his head, cheeks more than a little pink, and swings the hook in a broad arc. He's throwing blind, really, as the curvature of the bodice does not allow for great visibility. 

The first throw catches on nothing, and Daichi barely dodges the falling hook.

The next throw, he lets fly a little farther and it nicks something, almost catches, and falls again. 

The third time appears to be the charm; the hook catches on something high above and Daichi gives Kuroo a thumbs up. 

Kuroo gives his ankle a tug, and when Daichi looks down, Kuroo gestures up. A silent offer to climb up with him, if he wants the company.

Daichi smiles, but shakes his head. “I’ll be fine!” He calls, before shaking his ankle loose of Kuroo’s grip and starting to climb.

Once he gets over the widest part of the bodice, he’s completely out of breath, but the climb gets easier, and he can see what the hook caught on.

It’s a miniature guardian, and the hook’s straight through its eye, and had dragged it over to be pinned against one of the giant interlocking wheels that almost appears to resemble a vertebrae. It’s twitching and the lights on it are throbbing on and off, but as Daichi creeps closer, it’s clear that the hook took out whatever it was that makes it a threat. 

He winds the rope and pulls the hook free, looping it around his body like a sash, with the hook dangling by his hip. Scanning the top of Vah Mizoguchi reveals a door, hidden between the twin rows of mechanical vertebrae, with a pedestal right beside it. The body is made up of giant, overlapping, rounded plates, bronze and vaguely shimmering in the sunlight. Despite the color, the texture of the material is not actually metallic in nature, but feels like some variety of stone under Daichi’s palm. It’s also weirdly oily, but when Daichi rubs his hand on his pants, there’s no sign there was anything on his hand at all.

He risks a glance at his surroundings - he’s _incredibly_ high off the ground. Not as high as Vah Yamji, to be sure, but still high enough to give anyone vertigo. It’s up here that he can truly see the extent of the destruction that Vah Mizoguchi has wrought - unlike Vah Yamji, who picked

The beast roars, and Akaashi dives low in front of him, swooping back around toward the head.

Though Daichi only gets a glimpse of his face, he sees a grim smile.

Bokuto lets out a screaming war-cry, flying close enough to Vah Mizoguchi’s giant head to drag his talons along the surface, and Vah Mizoguchi lets out a high-pitched, deafening roar, the sound tinny and undeniably mechanical. 

Bokuto lets out a laugh. “HEY HEY HEY!” he yells, diving to do it again.

Daichi shakes his head, refocusing. It’s hard to walk on the back while Vah Mizoguchi is walking - the shifting of weight and balance from one leg to another is a jolting, unpredictable process, especially since it’s trying to rid itself of Bokuto and Akaashi’s bamboozling at the same time. He ends up doing this half-walk, half crawl gait to the pedestal, placing the place gently on top. He has to hold it down Vah Mizoguchi’s swaying doesn’t send it flying.

If he dropped the plate and it broke when it hit the ground, or Vah Mizoguchi stepped on it, he would cry. And probably scream. And maybe have a mental breakdown on the spot. Really, the possibilities are endless, and endlessly unpleasant at that.

Though it’s slow and shaky, the door creaks open, causing a small dust cloud. Vah Mizoguchi roars again, this time, Daichi is not sure if it’s because of him, of the harpies, or of the three warriors poking around inside. He returns the plate to his belt.

The door opens to a narrow, dark staircase. There are sconces of teal fire inside the door, but it’s as though their light can not pierce the darkness. The walls, from what little Daichi can see, are covered in intricate patterns Oikawa would probably kill to study. In fact, he gets so caught up into examining whatever is scrawled on the walls that he jolts when he notices a matter far more pressing.

Glowing red eyes peer at him from in the dark. Unlike the sconces, these lights have no trouble carving their way through the dark, and they are bright, unmistakable. These lights are not made to be missed or ignored.

Like poisonous frogs, brightly colored to remind predators that they are deadly.

Thinking they’re guardians, Daichi draws his sword and charges down.

The door slams shut behind him.

The eyes, which looked round from the outside, morph into cat-like slits.

 _Hello, Sir Sawamura Daichi, Hero of Haikyu, ex-wielder of the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness_ , a voice that is not audible but somehow still very much a voice, and very much echoing in his ears, rasps. He swears he can feel a breath coast down the back of his neck, simultaneously around his ankles.

He knows the voice. It’s cold like the dead of winter, or nights without moons. It’s dark like a cave that has been closed off for centuries, with creatures of all sorts festering in the wet darkness. It’s angry, deeper than the deepest-set rage Daichi can fathom. It’s a voice and not a voice, but it drips with Malice, wretched and toxic.

Calamity Vol, the last and most terrible of the Calamities, just said hello.

Sugawara is not the least prepared to zap anywhere when he feels his particles (which is a very weird thought, and the feeling is even stranger) begin to dissipate. He assumes, once he blinks away the blurriness which comes with being in one place and essentially teleporting to another, and realizes he’s standing in another Divine Beast (he guesses Vah Mizoguchi - the others’ insides are not nearly so compartmental in nature), that Daichi has taken on Vol to regain access to the controls.

He has to leap out of the way, nearly getting stabbed by a knight wearing an Aoba Johsai crest. He doesn’t even have the _words_ to explain how much he does not want this knight to stab him, until Kuroo steps in front of him and stops the knight in his tracks.

“Iwaizumi, this is Prince Sugawara Koushi, crowned prince of Haikyu. Please do not stab him,” Kuroo says, holding out an arm to keep Suga behind him.

The knight, Iwaizumi, gapes, eyes darting from Kuroo to Suga. “If he’s _here_ , why are we worried about saving him?”

It’s then that the realization hits Suga.

The reason the knight was so quick to try and stab him is because _none_ of three people standing here were otherwise engaged in combat. Which is strange, because combat with Vol tends to be pretty engaging.

Well, at least, if one intends to _survive_ combat with Vol, they tend to be pretty engaged.

But if they’re _not_ engaged in combat, and Suga’s _here_ , and Vol is _here_ …

Suga spins Kuroo around with hand on his shoulder. “Where is Daichi?” He tries to keep the panic from his voice, but suspects by the upward flight of Kuroo’s eyebrows that he does not succeed.

Two harpies, one Suga vaguely recognizes from Vah Yamji, swoop in through a window on Vah Mizoguchi’s side. The familiar one, grey and tall and Daichi probably said his name but Suga definitely cannot remember it right now, not when he’s worrying about Daichi, says, “Hey, hey, hey! Prince Sugawara!” He does this goofy little bow, which the other harpy quickly follows suit on, then continues. “Kuroo, did Daichi change the game plan on us? We went to follow him through the door, like he said to do in the fort, but the door was shut tight and Daichi was nowhere to be found. He wouldn’t even answer when we were calling for him. ‘Kaashi thought he might be here with you guys, but… he isn’t.”

Sugawara’s blood drains from his face. He turns to Kuroo. “Vol’s here, and he might have Daichi.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen, and the stranger, who was hiding behind Iwaizumi, steps forward. “Where does the main door lead to?” they ask, and Suga doesn’t bother answering.

He just darts for the main hall. The others chase after him as fast as they can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i use the word "bamboozle" too many times in this chapter?  
> probably.  
> definitely.
> 
> am i Sorry?  
> no.  
> not even a little bit.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi is sassy. Suga is Sad. Vol happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen  
> this chapter and i are NOT on speaking terms  
> writing it was like pulling teeth and i know it reads janky too  
> i'm sorry  
> i will try to do better  
> i don't know why this one was so hard to write  
> i hope you like it anyways tho :)
> 
> also this is really random but if yall have not read "In Another Life" by LittleLuxray yet, you are Missing Out. It is INCREDIBLE. I cried for HOURS. I would highly recommend. I read it for the first time yesterday and holy shit it is So Good

Sugawara is not the least prepared to zap anywhere when he feels his particles (which is a very weird thought, and the feeling is even stranger) begin to dissipate. He assumes, once he blinks away the blurriness which comes with being in one place and essentially teleporting to another, and realizes he’s standing in another Divine Beast (he guesses Vah Mizoguchi - the others’ insides are not nearly so compartmental in nature), that Daichi has taken on Vol to regain access to the controls.

He has to leap out of the way, nearly getting stabbed by a knight wearing an Aoba Johsai crest. He doesn’t even have the  _ words _ to explain how much he does not want this knight to stab him, until Kuroo steps in front of him and stops the knight in his tracks.

“Iwaizumi, this is Prince Sugawara Koushi, crowned prince of Haikyu. Please do not stab him,” Kuroo says, holding out an arm to keep Suga behind him.

The knight, Iwaizumi, gapes, eyes darting from Kuroo to Suga. “If he’s  _ here _ , why are we worried about saving him?”

It’s then that the realization hits Suga.

The reason the knight was so quick to try and stab him is because  _ none _ of three people standing here were otherwise engaged in combat. Which is strange, because combat with Vol tends to be pretty engaging.

Well, at least, if one intends to  _ survive _ combat with Vol, they tend to be pretty engaged.

But if they’re  _ not _ engaged in combat, and Suga’s  _ here _ , and Vol is  _ here _ …

Suga spins Kuroo around with hand on his shoulder. “Where is Daichi?” He tries to keep the panic from his voice, but suspects by the upward flight of Kuroo’s eyebrows that he does not succeed.

Two harpies, one Suga vaguely recognizes from Vah Yamji, swoop in through a window on Vah Mizoguchi’s side. The familiar one, grey and tall and Daichi probably said his name but Suga definitely cannot remember it right now, not when he’s worrying about Daichi, says, “Hey, hey, hey! Prince Sugawara!” He does this goofy little bow, which the other harpy quickly follows suit on, then continues. “Kuroo, did Daichi change the game plan on us? We went to follow him through the door, like he said to do in the fort, but the door was shut tight and Daichi was nowhere to be found. He wouldn’t even answer when we were calling for him. ‘Kaashi thought he might be here with you guys, but… he isn’t.”

Sugawara’s blood drains from his face. He turns to Kuroo. “Vol’s here, and he might have Daichi.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen, and the stranger, who was hiding behind Iwaizumi, steps forward. “Where does the main door lead to?” they ask, and Suga doesn’t bother answering.

He just darts for the main hall. The others chase after him as fast as they can.

Daichi stares into Vol’s eyes, and sheaths his sword. Though it is a high quality blade, and Daichi has worked to keep it razor-sharp, he knows it will do nothing against Vol, the incarnation of darkness and Malice. There’s a reason, after all, that the sword he’s  _ supposed _ to have is called the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness.

_ So rude, _ the not-voice purrs.  _ Not even going to return my greeting? _

“I don’t talk to shadows or floating pairs of eyes,” Daichi says, which is probably a stupid thing to say, but it’s not like he  _ asked _ for a confrontation like this. 

The darkness recedes, until the sconces can light the whole staircase, which reveals another locked door at the base. What the fading black also reveals is a massive, veiny, purple and red, goopy mass in front of him, with throbbing red eyes, narrow and shaped like a cat’s.

Daichi shrugs. “Hello, Calamity Vol.”

The voice chuckles.  _ You are among the more pleasant of humans _ , Vol rasps.  _ I have a proposition I would like to discuss with you _ .

In that moment, locked in a stairwell with the being ruining his and many other peoples’ lives, Daichi can think of nothing he’d like to do  _ less _ than discuss a “proposition” with Calamity Vol, the last and most terrible of all Calamities.

“Go for it,” he says, because he is nothing if not curious, and if Vol is desperate enough to try and sway him to its side, he might as well hear him out. Maybe it’ll boost his confidence regarding his chances of actually winning this fight.

And Vol begins.

Suga bangs his fist, then his shoulder against the door, but it won’t budge. Of course, it’s locked by the pedestal and  _ of course _ Daichi is the one carrying the plate and  _ of course Vol trapped him in there, probably to torture him to dea- _

“Prince Sugawara!” Kuroo shouts, gripping his shoulders and pulling him away from the door. “No matter  _ what’s  _ happening in there, there’s no way we’re getting that door open with our shoulders. This thing was built to last till the end of Haikyu itself, which means it’s  _ definitely _ going to outlast our shoving and punching. You need to breathe and think clearly. We can figure this out. We need to use the plate to convince the pedestal to open the door. Is there a way we can bypass the plate? Like, is there an emergency setting which would open all the doors?”

Suga pauses, breathing heavily. “The control room might have something, but Vol likely still has control over it. It’s remarkably good at multitasking.”

“And we can’t hurt Vol?”

“The line isn’t so strict,” Suga says, trembling a bit. Kuroo hasn’t taken his hands off his shoulders, which is honestly a blessing - he wants to collapse. “No one can  _ kill _ Vol without killing a portion of me. Injuring it doesn’t matter to the binding magic. If I scrape my knee, Vol won’t get a scraped knee.”

“And no one’s tried to kill  _ you _ ?” Iwaizumi asks, crossing his arms. “Not that I, or anyone here has any desire or any intention of doing so,” he clarifies with an emphatic shake of his head, “but that’s the logical conclusion. If killing you would kill Vol, wouldn’t it be easier to kill you?”

Suga chuckles, humorless and sad. “Actually, you’d be surprised the lengths Vol goes to ensure no one, not even myself, can kill me. It’s strong magic. I can show you.”

Iwaizumi shrugs, and nods. “Okay. What do I need to do?”

Suga points to the center of his sternum. “Take your least favorite and easiest to replace blade and put the point of it here.”

Iwaizumi pulls a knife from his belt, and presses the tip to Suga’s tunic, right where he pointed. 

“Now imagine driving that blade through me. Picture it clearly. Really focus on it. Imagine you’re actually going to do it. That you intend to kill me right here, right now. You hate me and want me to die.”

Iwaizumi’s brows furrow, but his pursed lips say concentration, and not a moment later, the blade, from the tip which is touching Suga, to the handle in Iwaizumi’s grasp, turns to purplish red goop, melting into a pile on the floor.

Everyone’s eyes shoot wide open.

“That happens to any blade, or really any weapon at all, that comes my way with the intention of killing me. I can be maimed, tortured, beaten, burned, anything. But if you try to kill me, your weapon will be nothing in an instant. If you try and choke me,  _ you _ will become the goop on the floor. And it goes even further than that. If  _ I  _ try to starve myself, the suffering is passed to the citizens of a random town in my kingdom. All of them will feel as though they are starving no matter how much they eat, and then will die of overeating. The same with dying of dehydration. They will feel as though they haven’t drank water in an age, until the sheer amount of water they’ll drink kills them.” He sighs, tears welling in his eyes. 

“Until I’m actually dead, others have to suffer… and I just… The people have suffered enough on my behalf. I could not bear to make it worse. I think it was Vol’s payback for binding his lifeforce to mine, and a way to make sure I wouldn’t end this all on my own.” Suga chuckles, humorless and sad. “And believe me, I tried. I just couldn’t stomach it.”

“Gods,” Kuroo mutters, then squeezes his shoulders. “Please don’t ever try again,” he says softly. “We would never ask that of you, Prince Sugawara.  _ Please _ ,” he stresses, giving his shoulders a little shake, “ _ please _ , don’t. It would  _ kill _ those of us who have hoped all their lives to see you reign, and it would kill Sir Sawamura Daichi to know he failed you.”

Suga smiles, just a little. A tear slips down his cheek. “Thank you, Kuroo. It… It means a lot to hear someone like you say that. Someone… Someone who’s been directly impacted by my family’s choices, in a way that you should never forgive me for.”

Kuroo shakes his shoulders again, gently. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t even  _ try _ .”

Suga’s eyes dart to Kuroo’s in surprise.

“Daichi is my friend,” he says firmly. “One of my best friends. He needs you. And even if he didn’t, even if no one in this kingdom other than me wanted you to stay alive, I’m still a citizen of your kingdom and I am telling you, do not lose hope. Daichi is coming, and if that is not enough, he is not alone on his quest to save you.” Kuroo’s lips purse for a moment, his eyes searching Suga’s. “Promise me.”

It’s then that Iwaizumi speaks up. “It’s a promise worth making,” he says quietly. “Kuroo’s right. Do not let your people down by giving up the fight now. There’s an entire kingdom who believes in you.”

The stranger steps up too. “My… My name is Oikawa Tooru. I haven’t known any of this group for long.” His voice is confident, unbreaking. “I would not, if I did not believe in you, have any reason to say this and mean it: Don’t leave Daichi. Not when he’s trying  _ so hard _ to get to you. Not when there are people who have waited their entire lives to see you reign.” He’s imperious, looking down at Suga. “You have fought for an age. Don’t let us down now, Your Highness.”

The two harpies look at Suga with unblinking gazes.

“Wait. You… You tried? You… You tried to… to...” Bokuto says, and he sounds so  _ betrayed _ that Suga’s whole chest tightens to the point he can hardly breathe. “Even once?” Then his golden eyes are watering and a sob breaks free of Suga’s chest and, in a flurry of grey and black feathers, Bokuto is hugging Suga in an unbreakable, vise-like grip.

The embrace eases his aching heart just a little.

“I promise,” Suga whispers, wrapping his arms around Bokuto in return. “I promise I won’t. Never again.”

The other harpy smiles. “We are all at your service, Your Highness. We will not let you down. Your promise will not be in vain.”

With a grinding, unwilling screech, the door to the stairwell opens, and Daichi steps out, entirely unscathed. His dark eyes dart around the group, wildly confused. “Are you all okay?” He asks. “You guys look like someone trampled your favorite dog with a draft horse.”

For a moment, there’s silence.

Then  _ everyone _ , in an uncoordinated, emotional, well-meaning explosion of chaos, tries to hug Daichi at once, all asking him a million questions as fast as they can possibly speak.

To say Daichi is touched by the concern, but more than a little bit overwhelmed would be an understatement. “Guys, I’m fine!” He yells over them, arms desperately trying to hug them all at once. “Guys, relax! I’m not hurt! Vol didn’t do anything to me!”

It takes a long, chaotic moment for them to release him. It’s then Daichi realizes Suga is crying, and takes him into his arms.

“What were you heathens doing to Suga?” he growls, but his tone is fond.

Suga takes a moment to simply breathe Daichi in. “They were convincing me I should always wait for you. You’ve… You’ve managed to gather quite a passionate group, Daichi… They’re very loyal. You’ve always had good taste in people.”

Daichi grins, obviously pleased. “I’m glad you approve. I’m rather fond of them myself.”

It’s not the least bit subtle, how all of Daichi’s friends straighten, proud and happy.

Suga tucks his face into the crook of Daichi’s neck, soaking up his warmth. “What did Vol want?” he asks, though his heart jack-rabbits at the question.

To his amazement, Daichi  _ laughs _ . “It thought it could convince me that I shouldn’t try to save you, because it could give me far greater rewards than you ever could. It argued that I am not bound to your side by any bind that holds, and how much more powerful I would be as its ally as opposed to its enemy.” He snickers. “It was not particularly pleased when it failed to sway me even a little, but,” he shrugs, “that is the nature of bargaining.”

Kuroo’s eyes narrow. “What would  _ you _ know about the nature of bargaining? Everyone gives you shit for free. You haven’t had to  _ bargain _ with anyone the entire time I’ve known you.”

Suga giggles, squeezing Daichi tightly. “Thank you,” he murmurs, so only Daichi can hear. “Thank you for coming, thank you for denying Vol, and thank you for having friends who want to save me just as badly as you do. I do not deserve such loyalty, such kindness. I will pay you all back, tenfold.”

Daichi squeezes him, then gently pulls Suga’s face back to look at him in distaste. “That is not the least bit necessary, you dumdum,” his frown morphing into a lopsided grin. “You are worth it. I, at least, and I’m sure everyone here will say the same, am not doing this for the  _ reward _ . I’m doing this for you.”

The rest of the group choruses their utter agreement.

“Wait…” Bokuto says, interrupting whatever Daichi was going to say next. “If Suga’s still here, that means Vol is still physically present, right?”

Suga pales, and nods.

He cocks his head to the side, picking awkwardly at his feathers. “So we… should… you know… probably go find it? And… like… fight it? Right?”

Daichi grins. “Yeah, probably.”

Iwaizumi grabs the front of Oikawa’s tunic, and none-too-gently throws him over near Suga. “If Vol can’t hurt Prince Sugawara, you need to stay close to Prince Sugawara, Shittykawa. If you die here today, I’ll drag your dumbass back from the grave so I can kill you myself.”

Daichi and Kuroo exchange a glance. “Distract Vol. I need to talk to Suga for a moment. I’ll be there shortly.”

“He’s probably in the control room,” Suga murmurs. His eyes are on Daichi. “It’s easiest for him to manifest physically there.”

“We’ll bamboozle him!” Bokuto cheers, obviously delighted at the prospect.

“You use that word far too much, Sir Bokuto,” the other harpy says tiredly. “Also… I just realized, I think I have failed to introduce myself, Your Highness. My name is Akaashi Keiji.”

Suga gives him a weak smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Akaashi.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Kuroo says, “Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Akaashi, let’s go do some bamboozling.” Bokuto cheers, and Kuroo gives Akaashi a teasing grin. Then, Kuroo turns to Oikawa. “Oikawa, give Prince Sugawara and Daichi a little space. They’ve… They’ve got some private stuff they need to talk over.”

The group separates.

Daichi looks at Suga, then gently wipes his tears away. “You didn’t really give me a straight answer. Are you okay?”

Suga smiles. “I’m much better now that I know you’re okay.”

“Good, because I’ve got some bad news.”

Suga pales. “What?”

“We need to… We need to stop dreaming together. Kuroo and I think it might be killing me.”

“Wait -  _ what _ ?” Suga’s eyes are wide. “But… I… I don’t… What do you mean,  _ killing you _ ?”

Daichi heaves a sigh of relief. “At least it’s actually you. Kuroo was wondering if you were an illusion.” He shakes his head. “Every time I dream with you, my physical body gets more and more distressed. The last time we dreamt together, I apparently spent the entire time screaming bloody murder. Kuroo said it was like I was getting tortured, even though no one was touching me.”

“Gods,” Suga breathes. “Why is that happening? Is it something I did?”

Daichi shakes his head, pressing a kiss to Suga’s forehead. “I don’t know, but I do know you should  _ not _ blame yourself. You will see me every time we take back a Divine Beast, and you have my word that I am thinking about you all the time. But, if for no other reason than for Kuroo’s sanity, we need to avoid sleeping at the same time.”

Suga trembles. “Okay.”

“It sucks, and I’d like nothing more than to tell you I’m joking, but Kuroo is genuinely worried the next time we dream together will kill me. Worried enough that he yelled at me about it, and Kuroo, generally speaking, doesn’t yell.”

Suga nods. “I’ll… I’ll miss you, Daichi.”

Daichi kisses his forehead again. “And I’ll miss the hell out of you. But we’re going to be okay, right? We’re going to end Vol and have an entire lifetime together. Neither of us are going to die and none of our friends are either. When this is all over, we’ll have a giant banquet in celebration, and there will be nothing but joy and relief in this kingdom.”

It’s warm like the sun, Suga’s hopeful grin. His eyes shine. “Right.”

Daichi gives him a squeeze. “You can count on it. We’ve got your back, alright? Always.”

Suga hugs him tightly. “I know.”

It’s slow, regretful, the way Daichi pulls away. “We should probably go and kill another fifth of Vol. There’s only so long that bamboozling an intelligent, sentient being works, and Bokuto tends to be a bit overzealous,  _ especially  _ when it comes to bamboozling.”

Suga giggles. “I got that impression. He’s very sweet though… he gave me a big hug earlier, because we were sad, and even though he might have broken one or two of my ribs, he was so passionate about comforting me that I don’t even mind.”

“Passionate is an excellent word for Bokuto Koutarou,” Daichi says with a smile. “I’m glad he was there for you when I couldn’t be.”

Suga pouts, then punches Daichi squarely in the stomach. “Don’t you  _ dare _ say that again, or it won’t be your stomach I’m punching. As long as you keep coming for me, you’re not allowed to feel guilty for  _ anything _ .”

Daichi chokes out a laugh. “I forget sometimes how badass you are, Sugawara Koushi. Vol doesn’t stand a chance.”

Suga wipes his cheeks of any remaining moisture and grins, wide and ever so slightly feral. “Damn right.” He looks over to where Oikawa is happily studying the patterns on the wall, scribbling things down in a tiny notebook. 

Honestly, they could probably leave him here and he wouldn’t even notice they left.

“Oikawa!” Suga calls. “Come with us! You’ll be able to get a good look at Calamity Vol! Maybe you’ll see something that we haven’t yet!”

Oikawa’s head spins so fast Daichi swears he can hear his neck crack. His eyes are glimmering. “Coming, Prince Sugawara,” he singsongs, but every atom of his being looks predatory.

Who knew a scholar could be so intimidating?

Suga grins. “Hell yeah,” he laughs, looping his arm around Oikawa’s shoulders as they walk, though he has to stretch up to do so. “You’re related to the original Champion, right? You’re just as determined as the Oikawa I knew and you look like her too! I bet you’re conducting research, right? Have you decoded the runes yet?”

Oikawa looks like someone just handed him everything he’d ever wanted for as long as he has lived, and then added a mound of riches on top of it. Daichi  _ swears _ he can hear Oikawa’s heart flutter in excitement.

“I’ve managed to-”

His sentence is cut short by a ragged cry from ahead of them, a loud, “ _ Bastard! _ ” followed by an unmistakable grunt of pain.

Oikawa’s face drains of blood and any happiness Suga’s question might have incited. “Iwa-chan,” he whispers.

Daichi wastes no time, sprinting toward the source of the cry. Suga and Oikawa are right on his tail, Oikawa handing Suga a knife, and pulling another out for himself.

They’re almost bowled over by Bokuto flying toward them, carrying Iwaizumi in his talons. He doesn’t even pause to talk, setting Iwaizumi down at Oikawa’s feet and immediately turning and swooping back toward the sounds of battle.

Daichi breathes a sigh of relief - Iwaizumi’s wounds are undoubtedly painful, but not lethal. He’s got a cut on his leg - deep but not especially worrying - and another shallow wound on his sword arm, and is clutching his ribcage - likely blunt force trauma to the ribs broke a few of them, causing deep pain but ultimately survivable. 

“Oikawa, stay with Iwaizumi,” Suga commands, voice firm - that of a prince, a leader. “Daichi, we’ve gotta go. If Iwaizumi’s down, that means Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi likely need backup.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Oikawa whispers, and cradles Iwaizumi to his chest.

Iwaizumi, for his part, doesn’t struggle, just lays his head on Oikawa and closes his eyes.

“Daichi,” Oikawa growls, and Daichi turns. “Give. It. Hell.”

Daichi smirks. “You got it.”

Suga and Daichi sprint away.

The battle is in full swing, and it turns out, Suga hit the nail on the head.

Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi are not winning. Standing in the doorway, they watch Bokuto dodge getting his wing chopped off at the shoulder by a hair’s breadth. He lets out a savage, enraged cry, diving to rake his talons across Vol’s flank.

The fact that they are not allowed to kill their opponent means that they have to stall, making attacks that repeatedly intentionally fail, or are nonlethal. Since there are only so many ways three people can attack a being like Vol without lethal intent, it means that Vol has a chance to learn their attack patterns  _ and _ doesn’t have to hold back at all, because nothing will happen to  _ it _ if Bokuto, Kuroo, or Akaashi go down. 

Daichi leaps into the battle with all the power and determination he can muster. Even though Vol is by no means struggling against the three persistent attackers, it’s definitely distracted, which means that Daichi’s flurry of rapid attacks is completely unexpected.

Vol actually goes down pretty quick after that, with a loud and painful roar.

Suga disappears before Daichi can even get to him. He waves, sad and accepting.

They’re back in the fort - Iwaizumi sleeping off the last of the healing draught he was given for his ribs and leg, when Akaashi asks the question. Bokuto startles at the sudden noise.

“Bokuto has been chosen to be the new Champion for Vah Yamji. Do you have someone in mind for the position with Vah Mizoguchi?”

Daichi’s eyes widen. He scratches the back of his neck. “No? Not yet?”

Kuroo hums. “Well, what are your options?”

Just to spite him, Daichi says, “You. Iwaizumi. Oikawa. Akaashi. And possibly Terushima, if we’re feeling inclusive. Or your grandmother.”

Kuroo raises a single brow. “You do not want me piloting this thing. That is a  _ remarkably _ bad idea. And if you think my  _ grandmother _ is any better of an idea you’re  _ incredibly _ stupid.”

“I would also like to not be an option,” Akaashi says quietly. “I… I do not wish to be in the spotlight like that.”

Daichi sighs. “So, of the people I currently know, I have  _ three _ choices.”

“You could always wait and meet more people,” Kuroo sighs. “It’s not like you’re locked into choosing someone right this minute. Sure, the timing is convenient, but it’s not  _ that  _ important.”

Daichi shrugs. “I suppose.”

Oikawa, who has not been paying attention to anything or anyone but Iwaizumi Hajime since Bokuto dropped him in his lap, makes an effort to get involved in the conversation. “What are we talking about?” He sounds distant, though, definitely not as engaged as he probably should be for the question he’s asking. His eyes don’t leave Iwaizumi’s face.

“The next Champion for Vah Mizoguchi.”

Iwaizumi groans, eyes peeling open. “Oikawa’s the obvious choice, isn’t he?”

Everyone in the room stares at him for a moment, partially because he hasn’t been conscious in a while, partially because that’s a rather bold statement to make, especially since it’s not really his choice.

Granted, it could be argued that it’s not entirely Daichi’s either, but he  _ does _ outrank them all.

Iwaizumi strains to sit up, sending Oikawa a hell-freezing glare when he tries to stop him, and meets Daichi’s gaze. “Oikawa’s strong. He’s reliable. He’s intelligent. He’s the most determined and driven person I know. He’s the great grandson of the first champion, and he will never fight alone, because I won’t let him.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whimpers, eyes watering. “You… You really… really think that? About me?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Of course I do, Shittykawa. Why else would I spend so much of my time with you?”

Oikawa is gone, sobbing into Iwaizumi’s shoulder, and instead of shoving him off, Iwaizumi simply strokes his hair, meeting Daichi’s gaze. “My point stands. I doubt you will find many people more deserving or capable of thriving in such a position. Even if he is a crybaby.”

“I am NOT!” Oikawa blubbers into his tunic, which does little to prove his point.

“His being a crybaby does not, in any way, make him less qualified for the position,” Iwaizumi says. “He’s too much of an idiot to argue for the job himself.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says with a devilish grin. “Bo’s a  _ giant _ crybaby, and you picked him to pilot Vah Yamji!”

Bokuto pouts. “I’m  _ not _ .”

“But you  _ are _ ,” Kuroo smiles innocently.

“But I am  _ NOT! _ ”

“You are.”

“You’re so mean!” He whines. “Akaashi, back me up!”

Akaashi sighs deeply. “Sir Bokuto, you cried when the healer told me my leg would heal just fine, and then again when I told you I asked Sir Daichi if I could come along. I’m afraid I have no evidence to back you up  _ with _ .”

Bokuto lets out a strangled cry, which  _ might  _ be Akaashi’s name, butchered almost beyond recognition and Daichi is definitely being generous.

“Well?” Iwaizumi says, eyes piercing. “What do you say?”

“I say that Oikawa should get a say in whether or not he  _ wants to _ be the pilot,” Daichi says firmly, looking at Oikawa, who is still sniffling into Iwaizumi’s neck.

Oikawa stiffens. “I… Uh…”

Iwaizumi pinches him.

“Iwa-chan!” He whines, then continues grumpily. “Of  _ course _ I want to pilot Vah Mizoguchi. The things it would do for my research… I would be able to learn so much! But… But I don’t mean to say I  _ expect _ anything…”

“Honestly,” Daichi chuckles, “as long as you’re up to it, Oikawa, I think it might actually be easier to have you do it, because the Beast already knows your line. It knows your blood. The fact that you’re willing means that it’s more like to like you in return. On top of that, even if you weren’t blood-related to the original Champion, you’re someone I know and can say with confidence that I trust to do your best. I… I’ve got a bit on my plate right now, you know? To not have to worry about finding a champion for Vah Mizoguchi later means that that’s one thing I don’t have to put any more thought into.”

Oikawa’s eyes shine. “You mean… You mean I can… can…”

“Oikawa Tooru, I appoint you the new Champion for Vah Mizoguchi,” Daichi says with a wink.

Bokuto moans. “I didn’t get a special appointment like that!” 

Akaashi pats his back. “Daichi was so excited about you being the Champion that he forgot.” He says it so dead-pan that Daichi is  _ sure _ he’s joking, but Bokuto perks up immediately.

“You think?!” He blurts, and the tiniest smile crawls across Akaashi’s features. “Badass!”

“Of course you are, Sir Bokuto,” Akaashi murmurs.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New battles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! i hope you all are doing well!! if you're not doing too well right now, i hope things turn around soon for you!!

“Okay, what in the  _ hell _ is that?” Daichi’s eyes are wide, and Karasu’s nervous prancing does not calm him at all.

“I do believe that’s called a Hinox,” Kuroo says dryly. He scratches his anxious horse’s neck. “They’re a pain in the ass.”

“And, let me get this straight: it’s directly in the way of where we need to go,” Daichi sighs, and dismounts. He’s got a sneaking suspicion this is going to end in a fight, and keeping Karasu out of danger when he can is absolutely a priority.

Akaashi hums from the back of his horse, looking over the map. "It would certainly appear so."” He dismounts a moment later, and the rest of the group is soon to follow.

Iwaizumi grunts. "Well, there's always the direct route." In case it wasn't completely obvious to which "direct route" he was referring, he draws his sword enough that the hiss of metal makes his point.

"Akaashi and I could carry you guys over!" Bokuto says brightly.

Akaashi sighs. "Bokuto, need I remind you that my leg is not yet healed. Yes, it is far and away better than it was when you found me. Yes, I might be able to carry ONE person, but I would not be able to carry enough people, and fast enough that the Hinox would not spot us and pursue."

"It's likely that it'll chase us?" Daichi feels a headache coming on.

"I wouldn't say it was likely," Oikawa hums. "If it spots us, I would say it's inevitable. Hinoxes are notoriously ravenous and humans and horses are two of its favorite snacks. They're even intelligent enough to cook us first."

Kuroo sighs. "Like I said, they're pains in the ass."

"Okay," Daichi says, though quieter now. "So staying here is not an option and going around means we might get lost and take more of a detour than our supplies can support. What does it take to bring a Hinox down?"

Bokuto perks up, feathers fluffing in excitement. "Harpy arrows," he grins and sends a delighted look to Akaashi.

"There is NO way harpy arrows would be enough to take that thing down," Iwaizumi snaps. "Beheading the damn monster hardly does the trick. If you don't completely tear it limb from limb, there's no way it'll stay down."

Kuroo frowns. "That's both incorrect and incredibly extreme. A well-aimed stab to the stomach will take it down. That, combined with harpy arrows would be overkill. Dismemberment is completely unnecessary."

Akaashi speaks up. "I agree with Bokuto. The impact of harpy arrows is more than enough. The force with which they strike is enough to shear a limb off."

Kuroo's eyes narrow. "Did you not hear what I said? A simple sword strike is enough."

"Both of you are wrong!" Iwaizumi growls. "You're going to get us all killed!"

Daichi watches the argument escalate with a growing sense of despair. This group had been together for less than a week, and they're already devolving to stupid fights.

Oikawa appears at his side. "They're attracting its attention. Come with me."

Daichi shrugs - he's not yelling, which automatically makes him better company - and slips off with him.

They circle around the monster - which has slowly woken and begun to amble toward the unsuspecting arguers.

Oikawa walks up behind it boldly, not bothering to sneak, then, feathering a finger down its spine like one would do to find a line of writing in a book, he slips a small blade in between two vertebrae.

It keels over and dies almost immediately.

The entire group gawks at him.

Oikawa smiles. "I've actually studied these bastards," he says smugly. "Their hides are pretty much impenetrable, but their spines have a weak point between their thirtieth and thirty-first vertebrae. The smallest, narrowest blade between those two vertebrae means instant brain death. I learned it by watching crows take down several of them at once. They would take abandoned arrows from hunting or battlefields or what have you and stab them there, then feast on their flesh or whatever it is they were cooking."

Daichi smiles. "That, strangely, doesn't sound quite like anything you all were yelling about."

Oikawa's brow raises. "Not only was I right and the rest of you completely wrong, but you guys were scaring Daichi with your yelling. We're all he has right now, guys, and you were bickering like children!" He crosses his arms. "Iwa-chan is always telling me I'm immature and childish, but at least I have the common sense to realize you all were probably right! Any one of those ways could work!"

The rest of the group - the two harpies, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi, have the good sense to look ashamed. But Oikawa is not done.

"It was written all over Daichi's face! Any of you could have seen it - and should have seen it! He was worried that he chose wrong! That his quest was over before it had even really begun! He's got so many mountains yet to climb, all too literally, and you assholes were making him think he would have to climb them all alone!"

Kuroo seems to get what Oikawa wants first. "Sorry, Daichi. We'll do better."

The harpies say the same.

Iwaizumi grumbles. "I hate when Shittykawa's right. But... sorry, Daichi."

Daichi smiles gently. "Thank you, Oikawa, but it's to be expected. This is a group of leaders. All of us, in our own ways, are used to being in charge, having people follow our lead and trust our word. While that makes for an excellent fighting force against Vol, no group is without its unique dynamics and it’ll take some time for us all to get used to one another.  _ Some _ in-fighting is inevitable as we all figure out where we fit in this group. However, what I need all of you to do is try and focus on what's important. If you're only arguing something to prove you're right, then I want you to try and take a breath. We all have the same goal. Especially for challenges like the Hinox, where it wouldn't really cost us all that much to try any of the ways you suggested, just breathe. Remember that these people are your allies, alright?”

All of them mumble and nod, even Oikawa.

“Good, now… I say we get going. The sun is only getting lower. If we want to reach the next village by nightfall, then we probably need to hurry.” Karasu trots over to him cheerily, and he mounts easily. “Akaashi, am I guessing right?”

Akaashi pulls his map out of his saddlebag. “Yeah… We’ll be lucky if we make it before nightfall.”

“Then let’s go,” Daichi says, and the rest of the group mounts quickly to follow him, as he trots away.

Prince Sugawara Koushi is sneaking past the throne room, where Vol has near-permanently decided to manifest in physical form, when he hears Vol roar in rage.

He freezes, assuming but hoping against hope that he wasn’t spotted.

“ _That_ _damn brat!_ ” Vol’s unnatural voice bellows.

Shock ripples through Suga.

He wasn’t spotted. 

Vol takes great pleasure in taunting him, sending hordes of monsters after him and making his life hell when he can. It would turn that unnatural voice soothing and toxic, cursing Suga with promises of long, painful death before for him and Daichi.

It wouldn’t just yell… And be so inspecific at that.

Which… Which suggests… There’s  _ another _ brat that Vol is yelling about?

The first person that comes to mind is Daichi. Without their dreams, he has no good way of knowing where Daichi is or what he’s doing, unless he’s fighting to regain control over a Divine Beast. But… it has been over a week since Vah Mizoguchi, and Vol already screamed its frustration about Daichi out that day. It doesn’t make much sense that Daichi would be the cause… but that means…

Is there someone else causing trouble for Vol?

And what are they doing that’s so irritating that even Vol acknowledges them?

Kuroo wakes Daichi up with his gasping.

“What’s wrong?” Daichi rasps, rolling over in the massive bed they’re sharing so he’s facing Kuroo. “Nightmare?”

The innkeeper had given them her most sorrowful apology, but since they had arrived so late in the day, most of their rooms were occupied. All of their rooms with multiple beds were, so Kuroo and Daichi, Bokuto and Akaashi, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa are all sharing beds in three separate rooms.

Kuroo shakes his head. Even in the dim light of the moon filtering through the small window, Daichi can see the sweat drenching his face and the way his lips tremble. Whether it’s fear or shock, however, Daichi isn’t sure.

“Vision? Or a weird dream?”

Kuroo turns to him slowly. His eyes glint strangely in the light. “In two days, if we keep following the trail on the map, we’ll reach a fork in the road. There will be three paths. Two will be on the map. The trail to the right veers southeast. That will take us toward the next Divine Beast - the one in Karasuno, Vah Takeda. This trail is on the map. The middle trail will take us toward a homey little village which will have amazing soup, but will ultimately provide nothing we can’t elsewhere or go without. This trail is also on the map. The trail to the left will lead us into this forest of these strange stone monoliths, and then toward a cave tunnel. The vision cut off, but something about whatever we will find in that tunnel is important.”

Daichi hums. “While that definitely is intriguing and I don’t doubt what you saw or what you’re making of it, but nothing is more important than the Divine Beasts -”

Kuroo’s eyes glow gold, bright enough to illuminate the bedclothes around him. “Sir Sawamura Daichi, the Knight Who Slept for One Hundred Years, Legendary Hero of Haikyuu, you will listen.”

Daichi blinks. “Umm…”

Kuroo blinks too, and the light fades from his eyes. “Okay, so… I just completely zoned out… What were you saying? Something about the Divine Beasts?”

“Uh… You didn’t exactly zone out, Kuroo.” Daichi’s not  _ entirely _ sure what he just witnessed, but he’s pretty sure it wasn’t a lack of focus.

“What do you mean?”

“This is going to sound insane, so I’m just going to say it. Your eyes started glowing and you told me, essentially, that I was going to do as you said and lead us down the left path. You didn’t actually threaten me yet, but there was definitely an implied consequence for not obeying.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen, almost to a comic degree. “I  _ did _ ?”

Daichi nods. “You did.”

“Oh… Shit… Well, sorry, I guess. I don’t know what came over me… I don’t remember doing any of that at all… And my eyes were glowing?”

“Like tiny candles.”

Kuroo pauses for a moment, clearly very confused and lost in thought. “Right. Okay. That’s weird. But at least I wasn’t screaming, right?”

Daichi chuckles. “Our bar truly is very low for this sort of thing. But no, you weren’t screaming, or thrashing. It wasn’t as though you were fighting something this time.”

“Good, because my head  _ still _ hurts from when I slammed it into the table. Is it still red?”

Snorting, Daichi moves closer to check. “No, at least, I don’t think so. Seeing as it’s night and I’m going off the light of the moon, I’m not sure you should trust me on this.”

“Fair enough,” Kuroo snickers.

“So, I guess we’re going to explore the left trail?” Daichi murmurs as he settles back down to sleep. “The one not on the map?”

“Well,  _ something _ wants us to explore that path.” Kuroo, too, settles down to sleep.

“Yeah, but is that  _ something  _ something we should trust?” Daichi’s eyes fall on the window, the pleasant cool light that pools on the sill. “All I’m saying is that there’s a lot of beings out there who don’t want us to succeed. Like,  _ a lot _ . And while I’m definitely in favor of exploring, because if I’ve learned anything from this adventure so far, it’s that allies can be found in the most unlikely of places.”

“We  _ did _ find Akaashi trapped on a Divine Beast, didn’t we…” Kuroo chuckles, running a hand through his thick, black hair. “I see your point, though. It would be… a risk, but… my visions haven’t led us astray yet, right? If we hadn’t brought Oikawa, the HInox might have killed us all.”

Daichi considers this slowly. “I don’t know about that. All of you are talented warriors. As soon as someone realized it was coming for us, you would have leapt into action. I think what Oikawa provided was an opportunity to realize that while this group is new and will take time to settle in, there needs to be a conscious effort toward unity in order for this to work.”

“Tomato, tomahto,” Kuroo sighs. “But you get my point. While they’ve never necessarily meant exactly what we thought they’d mean, they’ve been right.”

“You’ve only had two visions before this, though,” Daichi says, frowning a bit. “While I agree - your first two were right, even if it wasn’t in the way we thought - two is hardly a pattern yet. Besides that, the threat of misinterpreting the vision’s intentions could also cause a huge problem. It could be the vision was warning us not to take the left path as long as we live, because our demise is there. The passion that was conveyed though could be interpreted as either.”

Kuroo shakes his head. “It was definitely encouragement. Whatever’s there needs to be found.”

“Again, we just don’t know. For all we know, it could be encouraging all of us to go to our deaths, now that we’ve gathered all the people it wanted to kill.”

Kuroo stills. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Daichi nudges him with an elbow. “I’m not trying to discredit you or what you saw or felt. I believe your interpretation. You know I trust you. But I’m hated by a vast number of beings. Who can say for certain that one of them can’t incite visions? Or weird dreams that feel like visions? Maybe that freak-out you had in that inn in Aoba Johsai is a side-effect? Like, every other dream has a freak-out like that. We just can’t be sure. I have no problem with exploring that left trail. I’m just not going into it with my sword sheathed.”

“You’re probably right to be concerned,” Kuroo says quietly. “But I really don’t think the source of these visions is evil. Maybe this innate trust is just part of the package, but I don’t think so. It… It just doesn’t make sense in my head. If they wanted to kill Oikawa, wouldn’t it have been easier to just poison him in Aoba Johsai? Or Iwaizumi? I mean, hell, if they wanted Akaashi dead that badly, all they would have had to do is stall us for a few more days, and Akaashi would have died.”

“But you? Or Bokuto?” Daichi whispers. “You live out in the middle of nowhere. You don’t have a vast network of friends, or people who know your name and face. It would be hard to track you down. Bokuto lives in the middle of a whole nest of warriors and beings with heightened senses. Killing him would have been exceedingly difficult.”

“But me and Bo joined your force long before I started having visions,” Kuroo says, then sighs. “We could go round and round with this all night, and without further proof one way or the other, I don’t think either of us can win the argument. As long as you’re willing to try the left path, I’m satisfied.”

Daichi smiles. “Deal. We’ll try the left path, but I want us armed and ready the whole time. The first sign of danger and we’re turning back.”

“Sounds good.”

Sleep comes slow, but it comes and takes them both back into its arms.

The group is grouchy the next morning.

That headache that Daichi managed to fend off yesterday starts throbbing in his temples.

“Bratkawa!”

“Mean Iwa-chan!”

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“‘Kaashi! Why’d you say that? That’s mean!”

“Because it’s true, Sir Bokuto. You snore and refused to wake or even try to stifle the sounds, even when I woke you up in the night.”

“Can you all shut up?” Kuroo growls. “I have a headache.”

Daichi takes a deep breath. 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa had an argument.

Bokuto kept Akaashi up all night, unintentionally, and now both of them are irritable and defensive.

Kuroo has another headache, which is coming after a vision, which does  _ not _ bode particularly well, but until it gets worse, there’s not much he can do.

He lets his breath out slowly. “I’ve got an idea,” he says, loud enough that he draws all of their attention to him. “We’re all going to listen, intently and quietly, while Kuroo explains the vision he had last night. Then, we’re all going to listen as Kuroo and I explain exactly what we talked about afterwards. Then, we’ll open the conversation up for further discussion  _ calmly _ and in a  _ civilized  _ manner. If one person interrupts or shouts or anything, you don’t want to know what I’ll do.”

In truth,  _ he _ doesn’t know what he’ll do either, but the threat is enough to make the harpies and Iwaizumi and Oikawa pale. Kuroo shoots Daichi a grateful look.

Karasu, for her part, turns her head back to give Daichi a happy nuzzle. Apparently the bickering was annoying her too. Daichi gives her a gentle scratch to her rump.

“Thank you. Go ahead, Kuroo.”

Kuroo goes through what he saw again, and what he argues they should do. When he’s finished, and he gives Daichi a nod, Daichi then goes through what they talked about last night.

No one interrupts. No one yells.

It’s kind of beautiful.

When they finally finish, the irritations that were plaguing the members of the party no longer are on their minds, and at Daichi’s signal, they jump into the conversation with full focus. Gone is the toxic irritation and name-calling. Akaashi still is tired and yawns a lot, but Bokuto offers his most sincere apologies. 

Iwaizumi apologizes to Oikawa too, after a while.

Kuroo’s headache subsides.

Their conclusion, in the end, is that whatever is forcing these visions on Kuroo is probably not, at least, outwardly malevolent. Though the last vision clearly had negative effects on Kuroo, there’s no way to know if that was intentional on the part of the being causing these visions or coincidental, or even accidental. 

As such, they decide in a vote to at least attempt the left path. Though they unanimously agree that it would have been better if the vision had at least given Kuroo a  _ hint _ of what they would find, there’s evidence to suggest that regardless of what the visions show, they’re not necessarily accurate snapshots of reality: Oikawa Tooru being painted as a criminal as the summary of the first vision being the primary example.

The discussion dwindles as the decision is made, and soon Bokuto is telling jokes to pass the time, and Iwaizumi teaches the group a travelling song he learned while training with Aoba Johsai’s army. 

Oikawa starts rambling to Akaashi about what he’s learned from the Divine Beasts, and Akaashi quietly offers tidbits from his time on Vah Yamji.

Peace is reasserted.

Daichi takes a deep breath, massaging his temples.

She stamps her foot. “We should tell him. We’ve waited long enough.”

He looks up at her, unimpressed with her frustration. “Not yet. There’s more to gain by waiting.”

Crossing her arms, she huffs, “I disagree. We’ve been keeping all this from him for far too long! He deserves to know.  _ It _ probably already knows! What do we stand to gain by keeping secrets from him?”

His gaze holds hers steadily. “He is excitable. He is driven by passion. With the information we could give him, who  _ knows _ what he’d do with it? Even if he did nothing with it, and stayed calm and poised like we asked him to do, what good would telling him do? Just because he knows doesn’t mean what he’s been hoping for is going to happen any faster or slower. It just makes more sense to wait.”

Her eyes flash, and a plant off to her right bursts with rapid growth - a clear sign of her temper. “As  _ if  _ you aren’t making this take longer than it has to already!”

His gaze drops from hers. “It’s necessary. You know I would not bother if I did not feel like it was important. There are things that need to happen, pieces that need to be on the gameboard, and events that must come to pass for this all to turn out the way it needs to be. My intervention is only as much as it must be.”

Her lip curls. “Then  _ intervene _ here! Tell him what we know! Tell him about the futures you’ve seen! Even if he does flip out, even if he does make himself a bigger target than he already is, he deserves to know!”

“I will not risk bringing about the downfall of this entire kingdom on the mere concept of  _ deserving _ ,” he growls, nose scrunched in distaste. “You know I care for him just as much as you do. You  _ know _ I would not ask this of you if I didn’t think it was vital. Your fighting me on this is not going to change my mind. If you think telling him is worth the risk, go ahead. But I will not support you on this. I will not tell him anything.”

She grimaces. “Fine.”

His eyes flick to hers. “I swear it, I am not doing this out of some sick, sadistic urge to torture him. He and his family have suffered enough, have waited enough. I am not arguing that. It just isn’t time yet.”

"Daichi," Kuroo whispers, looking up at him from his comparatively small horse - though the vast majority of things look small compared to Karasu. "That's the fork from my vision."

The fork is unassuming. It's simple - three dirt trails diverging their own ways, like meandering cattle. There's no signage, no hints of death or devastation to come. No signs of past destruction.

"Kuroo's vision was right," Akaashi says quietly, as though afraid to wake whatever might be lying in front of them. "There's no sign of the far left trail on this map. It's like it doesn't even exist."

"Look at those rocks!" Bokuto shouts, in typical Bokuto fashion, pointing excitedly to the tall monoliths, just as Kuroo had described. "That's what you saw, right, Kuroo?"

Kuroo nods. Even though he believed in his vision wholeheartedly, and fought to see it through, he looks a little pale now.

"Kuroo, I'll lead the way, you take up the rear. If you see anything or remember anything, call out." Daichi doesn't wait for a response, or stop to reconsider. He leads the way down the left path.

The dirt slowly gives way to rocky sand, dark and sparkling. The air seems to grow hotter by the moment.

When they reach the entrance to the cave tunnel, a blast of hot air greets them, followed by the thinnest tail of smoke.

Daichi looks back at Kuroo. "You sure?"

Kuroo nods, though he looks less sure now than he did last night.

He rolls his shoulders, dismounting Karasu. "Caves are not good places for horses," he murmurs to her. "Please stay out here and protect the others' horses. They're not as smart or brave as you."

She wuffs, nudging Daichi with her nose. She makes no moves to stop him, no complaints about this plan, but Daichi can't tell if it's because she knows there's nothing dangerous in the cave, or if it's because he complimented her and she's just focusing on that.

Maybe it doesn't matter, because she has total faith in him either way.

He shakes his head. Nope, that's not it. Karasu is smarter than that.

Giving Kuroo another look, he takes the lead into the cave, after striking a piece of flint on the closest rock and lighting his torch.

The tunnel is  _ hot _ .

Every step Daichi takes, he feels more and more sweat gather on his skin. He’s glad he didn’t drag Karasu inside - the floor is uneven and the dark sand provides no traction - Daichi slips multiple times, and the others are just as unlucky.

On one particular downward stretch, Bokuto slipped and would have taken out everyone in front of him (Daichi, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi) if Akaashi hadn’t caught him and dragged him back to his feet. 

Vaguely, Daichi is aware that they’ve looped back the way they came. Too many turns. Though at no point do they cross over a path they’ve already taken - there are no intersections, otherwise Daichi would really have no way of telling - they just keep going further and further.

Daichi looks back at Kuroo just once - they’ve been walking for a while, and frankly, Daichi’s legs are getting tired. The terrain means that it’s intensive work to trek, and they’ll still have the walk back if they ever reach where they’re going. The look in Kuroo’s eyes begs him to keep going. He looks frustrated and tired, but determined.

Daichi takes a deep breath and continues walking.

When the tunnel starts to widen, Daichi slows, drawing his sword. The others in his party do the same. Akaashi pulls a bow free and draws an arrow. Though the bow is long and the wood thick, and the draw-weight is doubtlessly immense, his arms don’t tremble at all.

The entire party makes it into the cavern when an ear-piercing roar sounds from the depths of a crevice. A column of fire blasts upward, and Daichi’s breath catches in his chest.

A dragon, lime green and massive crawls out from the divide in the rock, wisps of fire slipping from between its long, sharp teeth. Its head is probably twice the length of Karasu, its black eye the size of Daichi’s torso.

The claws on its feet put the harpies’ to shame.

Though it has no wings, it hovers over the ground, stepping on nothing and somehow flying regardless. Its scales are ombres of yellow and lime green, fading in and out. Two massive black horns sprout from its forehead. Rippling muscle shifts the scales in enchanting ways.

Fire shoots from its mouth, lining the tunnel’s entrance they entered through in molten flame that melts the rock around it.

Daichi shifts his feet, bending his knees. His sword, he rests the hilt on his hip, the tip of the blade following the dragon’s head.

Akaashi steps up so he’s even with Daichi’s shoulder. His bow is still drawn - not a muscle in him trembles. He meets Daichi’s eye. Gives him the smallest nod.

_ I’ll shoot on your command _ , the look says.

Daichi purses his lips.

He has to figure out how to fix this. They can’t die by dragon. He doesn’t look at Kuroo, doesn’t look at anyone, simply studies the way the dragon moves. It has to have a weak spot, or it has to be guarding something. Maybe that’s what Kuroo’s vision is about. Maybe the dragon has something worth fighting for. Maybe the dragon has the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness? But no matter how he looks at the scales, there doesn’t seem to be any weaknesses. Its footing on whatever it’s stepping on to hover like that is steady, unconcerned. Just watching its feet for too long gives him a headache - his eyes can’t even process what he’s seeing, it just looks so  _ impossible. _

“Oikawa, wait!” Iwaizumi’s shout breaks Daichi’s concentration. “Oikawa!” There’s real fear in his voice, and Daichi stumbles as Oikawa shoves past him, a dazzled look in his eyes and the most thrilled smile on his lips.

The dragon watches Oikawa’s approach with a predatory stillness, Oikawa looks tiny in comparison. There’s not a drop of fear in his posture. Just confidence and excitement.

So Daichi recruited an insane person to pilot a Divine Beast. Or at the very least a deadman walking. What kind of person who wants to live approaches an  _ immensely _ dangerous dragon with nothing but a tiny knife and a beloved journal?

Oikawa pulls the aforementioned journal from his tunic. Flipping through the pages with a speed that only comes from familiarity, he lets out a shout of excitement as he finds the page he was looking for.

He presses a finger to the page, reading whatever is written there.

It’s not in a language Daichi’s ever heard before, but it’s familiar in a way he can’t quite place. It feels like the Divine Beasts, like what praying at the foot of those massive statues of goddesses felt like. It feels like the plate at his hip feels like, heavier than it should be, older and deeper and incomprehensible but somehow meaningful despite it.

The dragon pauses, head cocking to the side. Slowly, its head lowers so it is as close to eye level with Oikawa as it can get.

Daichi’s heart has stopped beating.

The cavern is eerily quiet. 

No one moves.

No one breathes.

Except Oikawa. He’s still grinning brilliantly, eyes glinting with triumph. He follows his finger, and reads the next line allowed. It’s stumbling, the way he reads these foreign words, but clearly something about them is familiar to the dragon. Even the fire stops slithering out of his lips.

Nothing happens for a long moment, so Oikawa continues reading.

One line. Then another.

Daichi thinks that, if they survive this, he’s going to strangle Oikawa, but if Iwaizumi pressing against his arm where he’s holding him back is any indication, then he might have to get in line. The tight look on Akaashi’s face matches his own. Even Bokuto looks furious.

Finally, he closes the notebook, slipping it back into his tunic. “My name is Oikawa Tooru,” Oikawa says cheerfully. “Myself and my friends here would very much like to talk to you, but unfortunately, I’m the only one here who can translate that tongue and I am  _ far _ from fluent. Would you mind speaking in our tongue?”

The dragon lets out a sharp breath. “Fine,” it says, voice deep and raspy. “What is that you want, Oikawa Tooru?”

Daichi’s jaw drops.

It can  _ speak _ ?

“What is your name?” Oikawa smiles. “I told you mine, so it’s only fair.”

The dragon hisses. “Names have great power, Oikawa Tooru. It has been an age since I have granted any being that knowledge. Why should I change for you?”

“Because I am with the legendary Hero, Sir Sawamura Daichi, and he’s on a quest to save Prince Sugawara Koushi. It’s because of him that I am here at all.”

The dragon’s massive slitted eye snaps to the rest of them. Daichi awkwardly waves. The eye flicks back to Oikawa.

“And how is it that you have stumbled across my lair?”

Oikawa throws a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to Kuroo. “The guy with a bird’s nest for hair had a vision, telling us to come here.”

The dragon sits up rapidly, eye  _ trained _ on Kuroo.

“You have no magic,” the dragon says with a voice that could probably split mountains if it tried. “You cannot have visions. You possess no sight. You have not been cursed by the gods or goddesses. You are lying about how you acquired this knowledge.”

Kuroo’s face drains of blood so fast, Daichi’s momentarily worried about Kuroo passing out. “I’m not lying. I know what I saw.”

The dragon lets out a growl. It turns back to Oikawa. “You are in the presence of a liar. You have brought a liar into my home.”

Oikawa’s pleasant tone falters. “Kuroo is not a liar. You are mistaken.”

Fire slips between the dragon’s lips. “Why would I share my name with frauds?”

“Check again,” Kuroo says, confidence in his posture, despite the way his voice trembles. “You’re wrong. I am not a liar. I would not lie to you. You could roast us alive and eat us at any moment. We are here because we want to be. Not out of some misguided belief that we can trick you. We’re here because we need your help.”

The dragon is still for a long moment. Flickers of flame still lick out of its lips.

“Do you know of Calamity Vol?” Daichi says calmly, trying to break the palpable tension by changing the subject.

The dragon hisses. “Do you take me for an idiot?”

Daichi simply raises a brow. “That was not the intention of my query. The intention was to find out when, exactly, the last time you were outside of this cave.”

Akaashi and Iwaizumi stiffen at his sides. Kuroo is gawking at him. Oikawa is making harsh gestures for him to  _ shut the everloving hell up _ .

The dragon blinks, slow, reptilian. “It has been an age. The outside world…” Its nose wrinkles, flashing its many sharp teeth. “It is not to my tastes.”

“Then you have not seen the corpses,” Daichi says, all too agreeably for the content of the sentence.

The dragon blinks.

“You have not seen the cities ravaged by Vol. You have not seen the plants and animals that will never return to the places they once called home. You have not seen the families that populate this kingdom that will never be whole again. I don’t blame you - what little I’ve supposedly seen, I can’t remember. But I have seen the bones.” He meets the dragon’s gaze without hesitation. “You cannot shirk your responsibility to this world. You cannot pretend not to see all of the death your influence could have prevented. I will not let you.”

The dragon stares. “What  _ responsibility _ do I owe to a world that I am not a part of? I am from a time you cannot imagine. This world is no more mine.”

Daichi’s gaze takes on a hard edge. “Your world. The one from a time I cannot imagine. Was it this same land? This same soil? This same mountain?”

The dragon hesitates.

“Then the products of this land, these people, these animals and these plants, they are of your time, your world as well. Your fighting for these people is you fighting for your world. If your loyalty is to the past, with no regard for the present or future, then the only role you serve in this world to be a threat to what is and what will be.” A muscle in his jaw flickers, and he lets his words echo around the cavern. “My job,” he says slowly, so he will not be misunderstood, “is to protect what is and what will be. I am the Hero, Dragon. My only purpose here is to fight for the present and future. Which means that if you will not help me, you are against me. There are no bystanders. I don’t care how old or self-important you are. You will help me and my friends, or you will fall to my blade alongside Calamity Vol.”

The dragon lets out a snarl.

But Daichi doesn’t waver. He does not lower his sword-point. He does not blink. His breathing is even and slow.

Then, the snarl devolves to a coughing laugh. “You, Sawamura Daichi, are true.”

Daichi waits, unflinching.

“My name, Hero, is Sakusa Kiyoomi. What exactly can I do to help you?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some new perspectives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this one is a little shorter than i wanted it to be... but i kinda really like this chapter anyways?? it was MUCH easier to write than the last chapter XD i hope you all like it too!!!
> 
> also i hope you all are having a good week and thank you for reading/commenting/giving kudos! it makes me so happy to know there are people out there actually enjoying my ENTIRELY self-indulgent fic :D i appreciate all of you!!

Vol has permeated every speck of everything; living, dead, inanimate, and everything in between. He knows this with every atom of his being - most people do.

It’s much easier to say than it is to prove.

It’s hard to pick up an innocent little plant, bright green with a future ahead of it, and focus on the veins of purple and red running up the stem. It’s hard to notice the way rocks are tinted purple, and sting your palms a little when you lean too long on them. It’s hard to notice, in the heat of an argument, how the air tints red, and the way purplish veins bulge in the participants’ eyes. It’s hard to notice how the rage gets a little sharper, unnatural in its deftness.

But, most of all, it’s hard to get  _ rid _ of Vol when its presence is inconvenient.

He growls, eyes darting over to his book again. The charcoal drawings are faint and smeared with age, and the writing is scribbly in a language that is ancient and hard to decipher even when it’s written clearly. 

This spell  _ should _ have worked.

His tonic  _ should _ be clean. Clear of Vol’s Malice.

He doesn’t even need a spell to check though. He can feel Vol’s essence inside, raising the temperature of the vial ever so slightly.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. So why  _ didn’t _ it work? If that spell couldn’t get the job done, which one would?

He is  _ not _ drinking this thing until he gets rid of Vol’s essence. He can’t risk a repeat of what happened earlier - it had nearly killed him and his target, as well as a few people in his vicinity. He’s pretty sure his target hurt some people too.

He was lucky the first time, but Vol knows the feel of his magic now. Vol knows they’re enemies, and Vol doesn’t do nice things to enemies.

Evidence: Prince Sugawara Koushi. That guy has it  _ rough _ .

He tries the spell again, mumbling the words a little slower, putting more emphasis and power into each syllable. The tips of his fingers glow, his hair stands on end, his heart beats faster, his breath comes easier, then-

The spell ends, the power settles back inside of him, stealing a bit of his energy with it, and the vial doesn’t cool.

What should he try next?

He’s still thinking it over when the door to his room opens with a soft knock.

“Hey… I just wanted to apologize for my outburst a couple days ago,” she says softly, and he doesn’t turn to look at her. “It wasn’t fair of me to snap at you. You’ve got  _ way _ more experience with this Future Sight stuff than I’ll ever have and I didn’t mean to make it sound like I knew better. Waiting is just frustrating. Especially when it means we have to keep secrets from our best friend.”

“I know,” he sighs, turning to her. “Do the best cleansing spell you know on this vial and it’s forgotten.”

Her eyes widen. “Okay.” She murmurs some words, eyes glowing blue, and then shudders, before handing it back to him.

He lets the smallest smile crawl across his face - the vial has cooled a bit. Vol’s influence is gone. The first piece to his plan is ready. He flips through the book to the other page he bookmarked - the second piece. It describes a ritual, powerful yet deceptively simple.

“What is the thing I purified for?” she asks, linking her hands behind her back. “You don’t usually need potions, right? For your… your Sight and stuff?”

He shakes his head. “Isn’t for that,” he mumbles, gathering the various other materials he’ll need for the ritual - candles, rosemary, pansies, black-eyed susans, camellia, and cornflower. He also snags a waterskin and an apple, munching on it absent-mindedly as he prepares. He’ll need as much energy as possible to pour into this spell - he has a lot of information to convey and holding on to a target from this far away in a place wrought with so much destructive magic is incredibly difficult. The ritual he’s going to use should help, should make it easier, but he’s not going to have a lot of time regardless. Either the cleansing spell is going to give out, or his mana is.

“Then what is it for?” She sounds so genuinely confused - he can feel her breath on his neck from where she reads over his shoulder. “Wait… I know this ritual… but… with a potion… This magic is much stronger than what you need.”

He pushes past her, arranging the candles in a circle big enough for him to sit in on the dirt floor. Between the candles, he starts placing flowers. According to the book, the order isn’t important, as any of the flowers can be interchanged with others. “I know what it is and is not, and I assure you it’s necessary,” he snaps, giving her a pointed look. “I need privacy.”

She says, tentative, “Even after what happened before? You really think that one cleansing spell will be enough?”

He huffs. She’s backing away though, so he humors her with a dull shrug. “The risk is worth it.”

The sound she makes is something between a grunt and a sigh, thoroughly disappointed. “I disagree, but I have a sneaking suspicion you’re not going to listen to me.”

He taps his temple. “Sight.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her raise her brow, then gesture to all of his supplies for the spell, including the cleansed potion. “Dangerous. And your Sight, as much as you rely on it, doesn’t tell you a lot about your own wellbeing or future, so you can’t trust it when it comes to your safety.”

“My safety, in comparison to the safety of Haikyu, is not even worth mentioning.”

Her cheeks grow red with anger, and her hands clench into fists.

“If I die for the sake of the kingdom, then it is a life well lo-”

“Life is  _ never _ well lost!” She shouts, voice cracking. “You dying is not a good thing! It’ll never  _ be _ a good thing!”

His nose scrunches. “I didn’t say it was a good thing. I said it would not be a waste.” He turns to her, eyes glinting. “My only interest, Yachi, is not wasting my life on things I do not care about. Dying now, for this, is not something I would consider to be a waste.”

“Not a waste?” Her eyes blaze. “Damn lot of good your useless corpse will do the kingdom,” she growls, then storms out.

He flinches as the door slams shut behind her.

Kuroo watches, eyes carefully calm, as Daichi and Oikawa talk with Sakusa.

Not for the first time today, he wishes his vision had been a little more clear about what he was supposed to do here, why they were here at all. He doesn’t worry about it too much - there’s a reason seers are only consulted and not worshipped in all the stories. They only get sneak-peeks of what will or may be, well, if the legends are to be believed that is.

However, if the legends are right, the fact that his visions didn’t start until after his twentieth winter is more than a little strange. All the stories tell of infants barely weaned from their mothers’ milk babbling about the future weather, whether or not the crops would grow well, damage to come to the local temples. Children who are abandoned by their families, even by entire towns for revealing ill-fated relationships, ill-intentioned leaders, or illicit affairs. Sometimes, these children weren’t even old enough to know exactly what it was they were revealing, and they were still completely shunned for it.

Kuroo certainly hasn’t been having visions for that long. At least, not that he remembers, and he’s  _ pretty sure _ his great grandma would have said something if he had.

He bites his lip as Sakusa lets out a startled grunt, fire spurting from his nostrils, which comes  _ very _ close to singeing Daichi’s eyebrows off.

It’s irritating that he doesn’t know what they’re supposed to ask of Sakusa. Daichi’s shooting blind, trying to find the answer. Sakusa hasn’t been all too generous with information or offers to help, despite Daichi’s best efforts. The idea of attacking Vol with a fire-breathing dragon on their side is more than a little enticing, but Sakusa won’t be convinced.

He’s worried about corruption, which, okay, fine, is  _ maybe _ a reasonable concern, because Kuroo can’t even  _ begin _ to imagine what it would take to  _ uncorrupt _ a dragon, but still. They need him. A dragon on their side would be invaluable - especially a dragon as old and wise as Sakusa.

It’s irritating that Sakusa, for all his wisdom and age, doesn’t really have a  _ lot _ of information to offer Daichi about things that matter. He doesn’t know where the Sword is, he doesn’t know the best method to attack Vol, he doesn’t know where Vah Ukai is, and he has  _ no _ clue about where to find other possible allies that would prove beneficial to the final battle.

But most of all, it’s irritating that his head  _ hurts _ . Like, bad. Like it did before he had a freak-out and slammed his head into the table. (He  _ still _ has a bruise.) However, out of their party, Bokuto is the only one who’s actually noticed, and has subtly made his way to Kuroo’s side.

Kuroo didn’t know Bokuto could  _ be _ subtle.

“You alright?” He asks quietly.

“Headache,” he grimaces, because he can’t dump  _ all _ of his worries on Bo. Frankly, he doesn’t deserve that.

Bokuto’s expression grows more severe. “What?”

“Headache,” he repeats, knowing that that is not what Bokuto meant in the slightest. “I’m fine,” he says, putting a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. “I promise.”

Sakusa roars with a sharp laugh, and Daichi has to duck to avoid horrible burns. “You want me to  _ what _ ?” He snickers, though it sounds a little too close to a snarl for Kuroo’s personal liking.

Daichi stands his ground. “I am constrained by time, physical capabilities, and my lack of memory. With your assistance, I can greatly decrease all three of those constraints.”

“What do you take me for?” Sakusa says, a threat lurking none too subtly beneath the words. “I am not some  _ pack animal _ for you to use as you wish, Sir Sawamura Daichi, Hero of Haikyu. I am not a mount. I am not a horse. The mere  _ implication  _ that you wish to use me as such is enough of an insult that if I weren’t so merciful, I would have burnt you to ash on the spot.”

Daichi’s frame stiffens, and for a moment, Kuroo thinks Daichi’s going to apologize. Bow down, grovel for forgiveness, do his best to ensure that Sakusa  _ doesn’t _ roast him and his party alive. Oikawa, at his side, looks ready to follow his lead.

He could not be more wrong.

“Well,  _ excuse me _ for not knowing and subsequently violating dragon manners. If you’ll put away your pride for a moment, perhaps you’ll notice that I’m not a dragon, and my memory stretches back only about a moon. More than that, you’ll realize that I do not have  _ time _ , Sakusa Kiyoomi, lord of fire and purity. You are physically capable of far more than I will ever be. You are powerful. You are a valuable ally. I am someone who is remarkably short on both of those things for a person who is supposed to save an entire kingdom. I would not have you carry me and my party as some sort of demeaning act of servitude. Bokuto has carried me before, and was not so  _ self-important _ to see it as an insult to his pride.”

Sakusa’s eyes widen, but Daichi isn’t done.

“And if you think my friends Bokuto and Karasu are mere pack animals, you are not the only one who has been insulted here, and I have made no claim to be merciful.” He raises his chin in pure defiance. He even draws his sword. “This is the second time I’ve had to waste breath correcting you. I am tired of your pride and of your disdain for my people and my world. Either help me or don’t, burn me to death or don’t, but don’t waste my precious time with useless posturing and empty threats.”

For a long moment, there is complete silence.

Oikawa is white as a sheet.

Bokuto’s jaw is on the floor.

Iwaizumi is stiff as a board, shaking a bit.

Akaashi looks like he might throw up.

Kuroo feels pride rush through his veins, and even though he’s  _ sure _ they’re about to die, he thinks he will die with honor. The hero he has chosen to put his faith in will not be cowed, not even by a giant, prideful, fire-breathing dragon, even when he is far and away weaker and could  _ definitely _ not win in a fight. The hero has chosen to stand by his friends and for his friends’ honor, even when that was not asked of him.

Kuroo feels as though he chose right to stand with him, and that is a good feeling. 

“I apologize,” Sakusa rumbles, and Daichi is the only one that is not surprised. “You raise excellent points. It is insulting to my race to have acted as I just did.” Sakusa’s giant head turns to Bokuto. “I apologize for the implication that you are a mere animal.”

Bokuto squawks out an, “Alright!”

Sakusa turns back to Daichi. “Let’s discuss in a more civilized manner.”

Kuroo sighs a breath of relief when Daichi doesn’t correct him - since Daichi hadn’t been speaking in an uncivilized manner.

The others turn to look at each other.

“How are we still alive,” Iwaizumi mutters, rubbing his sinuses. “He just… chastised a dragon…  _ twice _ … and we’re… still alive… How...”

“A dragon just apologized to me,” Bokuto whispers, stunned.

Oikawa wanders over, wrapping his arm around Iwaizumi’s and laying his head on his shoulder. “That was literally the scariest thing I’ve ever seen and I’ve almost been killed by Vol.”

“I think I’ve lost years off of my lifespan,” Akaashi murmurs, absent-mindedly picking at his feathers, as though he were in shock.

Kuroo chuckles. The others’ gazes snap to him.

“I’m proud of him,” he says honestly, and slowly, the others smile too. “He’s the Hero, you know? Like, he really is. Maybe a little stupid, and he  _ probably _ needs to pick his battles a little more carefully, but… you know. He’s the Hero. I feel good about following him.” He pauses for a moment, smile fading. “Even if it means getting roasted alive by a dragon.”

Akaashi’s smile is bright and warm. “I agree.”

The others are expressing their agreement when pain pulses through his temples, and Kuroo winces. Bokuto is immediately concerned. “Tetsu, if you freak out again I’m just going to knock you out.”

“Bo, I’m fine… Don’t worry. It’s just a headache. It’s not as bad as last time...”

Then everyone is talking at once. 

“A headache?” Iwaizumi starts, dragging Oikawa closer. “Isn’t that what-”

“Could it just be dehydration?” Oikawa asks.

“Kuroo, I-” Akaashi interrupts with a frown.

Kuroo staggers to cover as many speaking mouths as he can at the sight of someone wandering out from behind Sakusa, glowing gold.

“Do you see that?” Kuroo mutters, stunned. Fire rages around the figure, but they seem totally unbothered, gazing around the cave, while striding serenely toward them.

“See what?” Bokuto’s voice sounds far away. There’s hands on his arms, his shoulders, but he can’t focus on them. They feel insubstantial, like ghosts of actual touch. It’s like they’re no longer real to him, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

“That person…” Kuroo murmurs, blinking to make sure  _ he _ really sees it. It doesn’t seem real. There’s a person who can withstand that kind of heat?

“Kuroo, there’s no person. What are you talking about? What do you see?” Bokuto’s voice gets softer and softer as the person gets closer and closer.

“Oh, shit!” A yell - sounds like Iwaizumi. It’s so quiet, Kuroo barely even registers it.

“Daichi!” It sounds like it might be Oikawa.

He doesn’t know what they’re yelling about, but he really can’t find it in himself to care.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” the person says quietly, in a dull, monotone voice. “We’ve got a lot to talk about and not much time.”

Kuroo just blinks. “What… Who…”

The figure’s eyes, catlike and gold, flick up to his, with a stare that could level mountains. “My name is Kozume Kenma, I’m a seer and a witch, and I have valuable information for you. So please, listen to me.”

“Oh,” Kuroo manages, because he is an intelligent person with a vast vocabulary. Then, as the pieces slowly fall together… “You’re behind the visions.”

He nods. “The magic surge when the Hero awoke was strong enough that every being capable of any sort of magic in the entire kingdom felt its power. Since then, the magic of the kingdom has been engaged in a bloody, deadly war. While there are a surplus of magic users who have sided with the Hero, and are doing everything in their power to clear the way for him, there are also many covens fighting for the opposite, rallying monsters and reanimating the monsters you and Prince Sugawara manage to kill. The Hinox you took down recently has already been revived. Prince Sugawara fights an endless, uphill battle against the forces within the castle. Every Divine Beast Daichi reclaims sends another surge of magic, alerting these covens to where him and his party are, and the closer you come to the castle, the more deadly and powerful these threats will become.

“The magic surge from his initial revival strengthened and centered my visions. In my dreams, I follow your party. While awake, I’m frequently plagued with visions - insights to choices that have the potential to make or break the war. It became quickly apparent that I needed to somehow supply the Hero with what knowledge I could. Unfortunately, I’m nowhere near the Hero - and before you ask, no, I’m not really here. I’ve forced you into an astral projection and am  _ severely _ draining my magic to have this discussion - oh, hell,” he interrupts himself with scowl. “I wondered if this might happen. Dammit.”

Kuroo slowly follows Kozume’s gaze. His jaw drops.

It’s a very disorienting experience, watching your body do things that you are not doing.

Though he’s standing and having an enlightening but relatively normal discussion with a guy who is  _ still _ glowing, he’s watching his body - and now that he’s bothering to look down at himself, he’s a  _ glowing red ghost what the hell  _ \- fight and thrash against Bokuto and Iwaizumi’s hold on him, viscous purple liquid dripping out of his mouth.

Lazily, Kozume mutters something under his breath, and suddenly Bokuto and Iwaizumi are thrown clear, a golden dome encasing his still-thrashing body within. He turns back to Kuroo.

“Vol has sensed my magic and is putting effort toward stopping me. This confirms my theory that the information I can provide you is important.” As he talks, the bags under his eyes seem to get darker. He yawns. “ _ Shit _ , this is exhausting. Damn Calamity,” he shakes his head. “I need you to eat myrtus flowers every evening before you sleep. With that, and the magic I’m using, I should be able to contact you without Vol being able to hurt either of us too much. That-”

“Kozume-”

“Kenma.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, a little breathless, “why don’t you just reach out to Daichi with all this information?”

Kenma blinks, a little surprised. “Because you’re not magic, therefore I don’t have to fight your magic in order to communicate with you. To contact the Hero, or even Oikawa or his prince friend, I would need to fight their magic to allow mine to have control over them, even for a brief period of time. The Hero’s magic is incredibly strong, though entirely dormant, and Oikawa’s is leftover from his great grandmother’s stint as a pilot. His prince friend’s is also hereditary, recessive and essentially useless, but it would still make him difficult to communicate with. Harpies, as a rule, do not mix with magic - they’ve got their own hybrid magic thing going on and it’s a massive headache to work with. You’re not magic, which means I don’t have to fight you, and there’s no interference. Well, if Vol wasn’t a massive prick and a huge pain in my ass, there would be no interference.”

“Oh.”

Kuroo… is… special? Because he’s  _ normal _ ? 

“The fact that you were the first to reach out to Daichi, the first to join him in this quest is no accident,” Kenma continues. “Your participation will be vital to his success. Don’t leave him, especially now.”

Kuroo is…  _ vital _ ?

He didn’t know that.

Kenma’s gaze drifts over to the dome he casted. “Shit.” He sounds even more weary. “Really? I’m not finished yet, scaly bastard. Dragons are so annoying. I knew I should have waited until after you were done with this clean-freak. I don’t have the mana or time for this, douchebag.” He’s cursing, clearly irritated, but his voice is so dispassionate that Kuroo is more than a little confused.

He watches, overwhelmed, as Kenma tucks a strand of long hair behind his ear, only for it to start floating as he begins to cast.

Daichi startles at Oikawa’s shout. He was  _ finally _ making progress with Sakusa - what was happening?

His face pales at the sight of Kuroo’s jerking body barely being contained by Bokuto and Iwaizumi, of the screaming growl emanating from deep in Kuroo’s chest. He races over, only to watch Oikawa get too close and Kuroo to ram his head into Oikawa’s.

He just barely manages to catch Oikawa before he falls on his ass.

“What do we do?” Akaashi yells, just to be heard.

“How do we help?” Iwaizumi shouts.

“Daichi, we can’t hold him much longer! We need a plan!” Bokuto roars.

Blood pounds in his ears. How is he supposed to know what to do? It’s not like he had a magical solution last time! They don’t even know what  _ causes _ these fits! Now they’re all looking at him and expecting some sort of solution and he doesn’t even know where to start. Oikawa is only just now beginning to try to get his feet back underneath him, limp and heavy in his arms, which means Daichi doesn’t even have his hands to use.

His breath comes faster and faster, his lungs tightening with panic. He has to find a solution. He has to fix this. He has to save Kuroo. They’re all counting on him. He has to fix this. He doesn’t have a choice. There’s no other way. There’s no one else. None of the others can fix this. It’s up to him.

Then a golden dome explodes from inside Kuroo and tosses all of them away, leaving him thrashing on the ground alone. It’s like a shield, and none can pierce through it. Iwaizumi and Bokuto pound on the golden magic, but nothing works.

He’s trapped. Kuroo’s trapped in a golden dome.

Daichi is too late.

He’s too late, and now Kuroo is in real danger and there’s nothing he can do to help. He’s worthless, he realizes, completely useless. What is he supposed to do? What  _ can _ he do? Is  _ this _ how he’s going to lose Kuroo, one of his best friends? How can they call him the Hero, the one destined to save an entire kingdom, when he’s watching his best friend suffer, frozen in terror?

He jumps at the giant head to his left. Sakusa’s dark eye is trained on him.

“I can help,” he says, and he doesn’t need to shout to be heard over Kuroo. “Allow me.”

Daichi blinks. “Please,” he says, and his voice cracks a bit. “Save him.”

Sakusa nods, once. “Tell your friends to stand clear.”

“Bo! Iwaizumi! Oikawa! Akaashi!” He roars, desperate. “Get back!”

Though it’s hesitant, they do as he asks.

Sakusa’s chest, between the scales, begins to glow bright green, and fire builds in his mouth.

He lets free a massive, unrelenting wave of green, flesh-meltingly hot fire directly on Kuroo Tetsurou. The golden dome doesn't hold up for even a moment. Kuroo is doused in flames.

Daichi feels his heart snap in half, and hopelessness floods his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so this cliffhanger... hehe


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations and rebuttals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like it's been So Long since i updated this, but i gotta be honest, the first two thirds of this chapter were Incredibly difficult to write. i don't know why. if it reads as uninspired as it felt while i was writing it, i'm very sorry, but i think the coming chapters will be more fun!!! i'm pretty excited :)
> 
> also updates for this fic might be more infrequent because, like the fool that i am, i started posting another multichapter haikyu fic that i haven't actually finished writing yet because, as i stated before, i am a FOOL. a BUFFOON. an absolute BOZO.
> 
> so yeah... i'm a mess but happy holidays and i hope you enjoy!!!

Kuroo is trying to listen to Kenma.

He swears he is.

But a flash of light in his peripherals has him turning, and the sight makes him quake.

He’s on fire. His body is on  _ fire _ .

When he remarks something to this effect (but much more panicked because his  _ body _ is on  _ fire _ ) to Kenma, Kenma, who has sweat dripping down the forehead of his ethereal form (also, Kuroo would like to point out that Kenma is  _ floating,  _ and his shoulder-length hair is glowing gold, fanned in a broad halo), spares him a glance. “So?”

Kuroo’s jaw drops. “I thought you wanted me to act as a middleman so you could communicate with Daichi! How can I do that if I’m burned to a pile of ashes?!” He feels like this is a reasonable question

Kenma blinks at him, glowing eyes confused. “He’s not burning you. He’s trying to purify you. He’s the Lord of Purifying Fire. I’m what he’d call “dirty”, because he’s a pain in the ass and a magic neatfreak. He’s covering you in purifying fire, trying to get any demons or monsters out of you. When he realizes I’m neither, he’ll turn up the heat, and my magic won’t hold out against it no matter what I do, so you need to focus. When you leave here, you’re going to have problems. Firstly, a… concerning number of your horses have been… misplaced? So you’re going to have to -  _ godsdammit all _ ,  _ Sakusa _ !” Kenma growls, body tensing as the glow around him flickers. He starts murmuring under his breath again, eyes screwed shut. “My mana is giving out - you get  _ one _ question, Kuroo Tetsurou!”

Any and every question he’s ever had on any topic ever leaves him immediately, and for a moment, he just gapes. Then, he stumbles out, “What’s mana?”

Kenma lets out a long-suffering sigh and rolls his eyes.

Kuroo’s perspective snaps back into his body, where he’s wreathed in flames.

Kenma vanishes as suddenly as he appeared.

Daichi watches in nothing short of wonder as Sakusa ceases burning, and Kuroo is standing there unscathed. He’s still gobsmacked when Kuroo turns on Sakusa.

“What the hell?! He was trying to help!” Kuroo yells. “You could’ve hurt him!”

Bokuto regains his use of his tongue before any of the others do. “Kuroo, bro, who are you talking about?  _ You _ were the one who was just on fire. The smoke get to your head or something?”

Kuroo doesn’t even glance his way. “It wasn’t fire. It was a purifying spell. Sakusa was trying to stop me with communicating with a witch, even though the witch is a seer who was obviously not trying to hurt me and has been providing valuable help to Daichi.”

Daichi blinks and opens his mouth to speak, but Oikawa beats him to the punch. “You… were communicating with a seer? I thought  _ you _ were a seer? Did you say it was your vision that told you where to find me? And it was a vision that led us here?”

Iwaizumi’s gaze is narrowed, and it’s not subtle the step he takes to get in front of Oikawa, between him and Kuroo. “If you’re not a seer, and you’re communicating with a seer, who are they, how are you communicating with them, and why should we trust them?”

Sakusa rumbles, and all of their eyes shift to him. “Actually, Kuroo is partially right. The seer was using a heavy communication spell, a cleansing elixir, and a considerable amount of his own mana in order to power the astral projection spell necessary to talk with Kuroo in a mode that will feel as though it is face to face. This would explain why, while I can smell no magic in his being, no mana in his soul, he was under the impression he was experiencing visions. Likely, this outsider, like every other magic user in the kingdom, was made aware of the Hero’s rising. Whether it was a prickle across their skin, the hair on the back of their neck rising, or a full body shudder, there was no drop of magic free of the ripple that the Shrine of Resurrection released when it made the final push to breathe life back into your body, Hero.” He takes a moment to look down at him, appraising. “You are lucky to have been accepted by the Shrine. You are not the first, nor will you likely be the last, who seeks that temple of healing, but you may well be the last who receives its blessing.” 

He turns his gaze to Iwaizumi. “This kind of magic is not as easily explained as how or why, Knight. Magic is not a science, is not an art. There are no words in your dialect or in any other that would allow me to properly and accurately express to you the intricate balance between mana, knowledge, physical attributes, presence of mind, and past, present, and future that combines to result in magic prowess, regardless of the specific orientation the power is directed into. Because of the complexity, magic tends to be far from pure. Many beings simply do not possess all of the necessary ingredients naturally to produce pure and powerful magic. There are herbs and elixirs and familiars and other methods of strengthening, or streamlining your power. This, however, dirties the magic, makes it less pure.

“I don’t allow any other magic in my home, Kuroo, because none, except perhaps my dragon brethren, produce magic as pure as my own. I will not apologize for purging the filth of another’s magic from my air. Likely, your seer does have a remarkable pure magical prowess. His magic held out surprisingly well against my own. For that, I commend him. But he was assisted by crutches that impurified his magic and made it unworthy. This cave is a place where pure magic gathers and grows.”

“So, if the seer were to come here, would his magic, the pure stuff, get stronger?” Oikawa asks, eyes bright.

Sakusa’s eyes glitter, his scaled lips twitching toward a terrifying smile. “The scholar among you asks a good question. The answer, young one, is yes.”

Daichi has had enough. “Okay, back up, we’ve covered a lot of ground in the last few moments and I need more information and less info-dumping,” he sends a meaningful glance Sakusa’s way. “Kuroo, who is this seer? What’s his name?”

“Kozume Kenma,” Kuroo says dutifully, seemingly happy that someone is finally asking  _ him _ about the seer he was meeting with without attacking him. “He’s a witch in a coven who is trying to assist you in your goal to take down Vol.”

“And why did meeting with Kenma make you vomit Vol-juice?” Akaashi asks, in that oddly sharp way of his.

“I feel compelled to say the term Vol-juice makes me incredibly uncomfortable,” Daichi says, tiredly. “But, the question is valid.”

“Vol’s magic is everywhere,” Sakusa answers for him. “This is another reason I purge all other magic from my home. Even those with potent pure magic struggle against the taint of its Malice. To communicate in order to bring down its demise, well…” Sakusa chuckles darkly. “Vol may be interested in nothing but utter devastation, but it is not stupid. It knows the prophecy as well as the children who are being tucked in tonight. It would like the prophecy to not come to pass, or at least prolong the inevitable for as long as possible.”

“So, this seer… was fighting Vol and you at once?” Akaashi asks. “That’s why you called his power remarkable.”

Sakusa nods. “For a nobody, he’s got a rather impressive grasp on magic.”

Kuroo’s lips press into a thin line. Daichi comes to stand next to him, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “Sakusa, if we were to send loyal magicians to your mountain here, would you be able to use your magic to strengthen and purify their powers? They wouldn’t have to come in here.”

Sakusa ponders for it a long moment, before relenting with a somber nod. “Yes. This, I am willing to do in this war on Malice. But if you garner the good will of my brethren as well, our purifying and strengthening influence will only become stronger. Our magics are three parts of a whole. Regretfully, there are many more pieces that were lost, but three is stronger than one, and stronger than none.”

“ _ Lost _ meaning dead, or  _ lost  _ meaning can’t be found?” Bokuto asks with a piercing stare. “There’s a big difference.”

Daichi smiles in his direction. Once again, Bokuto is surprisingly on the nose.

Sakusa blinks at him. “Their magics vanished from my senses, so I assumed the answer was death. But having the question posed to me now, I realize I have no evidence to support either concept. Others still went missing before my birth thousands of years ago, so I regret to say I have no answer for you.”

Daichi fights an oncoming headache by opening his mental list of things that need done and adding  _ find long lost beings of massive pure magical prowess who may or may not actually exist, and even if they did at one point, might be long dead and completely unhelpful now. _

He wants to save Suga. He really does. 

But he feels like there’s kind of a lot riding on his shoulders with a very close deadline.

“Is there anyone we can ask who might know?” Oikawa asks, though he’s staring right at Daichi. There’s concern dancing in his eyes.

Daichi gives him a small smile. 

Sakusa hums. “Perhaps the Horse God would know, but finding the Horse God is a bit like finding a needle in a stack of needles. I-”

Kuroo gasps. “Our horses! Kenma said a bunch of our horses have been misplaced!”

Daichi’s heart leaps into his throat. “Karasu.” The name slips from his lips before he can stop it, but he can’t help it. Today has been full of emotional highs and lows coming one after another, and if it ends with the loss of Karasu?

He doesn’t know if he can take that.

“He said there were gonna be a lot of problems when we left, and if  _ someone _ hadn’t decided their own home was more important than the fate of the Hero’s quest and an innocent seer, he might have had the time and mana with which to explain the rest to me.” He crosses his arms at Sakusa. “You can’t claim you intend to help and then intentionally hinder us.”

“You were vomiting Vol-juice,” Sakusa says with no remorse. “Vol was inside you. Too long with that influence, and you would have had a very difficult time reclaiming your faculties. Especially considering how you are completely free of magic yourself. For that seer to place his visions over the safety of your life, regardless of the contents of these visions, is self-important and deluded.”

Kuroo narrows his eyes. “ _ You _ wanna talk about self-importance and deluded? Kenma did  _ nothing _ to-”

Daichi frowns, closing his eyes. “Guys, we need to focus. We’ve got a  _ lot  _ of ground to cover and very little time. Sakusa, we will send every witch and loyal coven to your doorstep until we come across another of your brethren. Kuroo, we’re going to talk more about Kenma later, but for right now, you need to go outside and start figuring out what happened to our horses. Count heads. See who’s missing, or who remains. Iwaizumi, Oikawa, go with him. Bokuto, Akaashi, wait with me.”

Kuroo looks irritated at the order, but follows without another word. Oikawa looks sad to leave, but he bows to Sakusa and follows Kuroo. Iwaizumi trails behind him.

“Bokuto, Akaashi,” Daichi begins, “harpies are not like humans, right?”

They both blink at him, clearly confused.

“What is magic like for you?”

They glance at each other. “Not like yours.”

Sakusa hops in. “Their magic is more… a cousin to the magic that courses through my being, and through that of humans. They do not mix. My strength does not power them any more than theirs would power me.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means,” Akaashi says, trying to sound gentle, “asking us to stay here and train with Sakusa would be a fruitless venture. Like teaching a fish to fly, or a bird to explore the deep seas. It’s not because we would not want to grow stronger. It simply goes against nature.”

He frowns, then shrugs. “Worth a shot. We’ll be seeing you, Sakusa. Hopefully on the battlefield?”

Sakusa’s eyes gleam. “We shall see.”

Iwaizumi looks around the clearing in which they left their mounts.

Karasu is the only one left, and she’s  _ pissed _ .

Something happened, that much is indisputable. Kenma, whoever he is, was right on the nose. There are no tracks, no hints, no blood, nothing. For all intents and purposes, their horses are just… gone.

He glances over at Kuroo, who’s leaning against the tunnel wall, trying to breathe deeply. The whole situation clearly has him worked up, to a degree Iwaizumi can only sort of understand.

His blue eyes flick to Oikawa. He’s flipping through his journal, muttering. His toes are alternating taps, and his shoulders are scrunching toward his ears.

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath, then comes up behind him, jabbing him in the spine. “Loosen up. What’s your theory? You’re doing that face you make when you’re overthinking something.”

Oikawa guffaws, putting a hand on his hip. “ _ Rude _ , Iwa-chan. I’m not making a face and I’m not overthinking!”

“Then what do you think happened? Or do you wanna pull another language out of your back pocket to speak to Karasu?”

Yes, Iwaizumi is a little salty that Oikawa is fluent in dragon-tongue and  _ didn’t tell him _ .

And yes, he’s going to be salty about it out loud. It’s not like Oikawa keeps the things he’s salty about to himself, after all.

Oikawa winces. “Okay, that’s not fair. I didn’t know the dragon would be able to speak it. I was just guessing! I knew that language was older than our ancestors, and I read about the “official” way to address a dragon in a really ancient book in your family’s library. I have  _ no _ idea how to speak to immortal monster horses, especially since, you know… as far as I’m aware, Karasu is the first one.”

“Okay, that’s  _ maybe _ an acceptable excuse, but don’t  _ think  _ I didn’t see you pulling out that blasted notebook of yours when Sakusa mentioned the Horse God,” Iwaizumi growls, taking another step into Oikawa’s space.

Oikawa’s smirk is teasing. “Blasted notebook, huh? You’ve been spending far too much time with your Aunt Yuri, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi socks him in the stomach unapologetically. “Answer the unasked question.”

“No, I don’t speak Horse God. I don’t know how to find them, and I certainly have no idea where to start looking. But, if we do stumble across them,” he winks, “I might have an idea where to start a dialogue.” He pats Iwaizumi on the shoulder. “Or, to be more accurate, I know how  _ you _ might be able to start a dialogue.”

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes. “Because you’ll screw it up, like you almost did with the dragon?”

Oikawa gasps. “I did  _ no _ such thing! Daichi is the one who sassed Sakusa!” He pouts, when Iwaizumi doesn’t budge. “Okay,  _ maybe _ I shouldn’t have… well… run out in front and put myself, quite literally, in the line of fire… maybe that wasn’t… you know… the best for my self-preservation. But, that does  _ not _ have anything to do with Sakusa and how things might have gone crooked!”

“You did not  _ know _ what you had to say wouldn’t be immensely offensive to the dragon.” Iwaizumi raises a brow. “Like you said, you’re not even fluent in that language. What if you were calling him a massive prick or something? What if it was a curse?”

“I’d like to think I’m a better linguist than that, Iwa-chan,” he grumbles. “But, back to my original point, do you remember Ley?”

He frowns. “Of course I do. Ley was the best horse I’ve ever had.”

“You spoiled Ley rotten, right?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, probably. Like I said, she was amazing. I rewarded her good behavior all the time, but Ley was rarely bad.”

“And she was pretty happy for her entire life?”

Iwaizumi shrugs again. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“The Horse God is not tied to this plane the way other gods have been, at least according to legend. As the name suggests, the Horse God finds its roots in horses. The benevolent owners of horses have much better luck both finding and communicating with the Horse God than malevolent owners. There’s actually myths of bad horse owners going to find the Horse God to resurrect their mounts that they killed by abuse, and either getting eaten, going missing, or being turned into horses themselves. Since you’re a good owner, and have horses in your past that loved you and you loved them, you’ll likely find it easier to strike a bond with the Horse God than someone like me, who has been pretty neutral on horses their entire life.”

Iwaizumi grumbles. “You want me to use my dead favorite horse in order to communicate with an elder god who may or may not be remotely interested in helping us find other gods to help us with our cause. If it doesn’t want to help us, since it lives on another plane of existence and might not need us or our world, what’s your plan?”

“Karasu,” Oikawa says with a great deal of surety, for someone whose thought process Iwaizumi is not following at all. “She’s obviously been blessed by a god, and there’s only one known god who entrenches itself with horses. It reeks of legend, you know? The whole  _ Hero’s fabled mount is  _ weirdly  _ immortal and also  _ WAY  _ smarter than a horse has any right to be _ ? It’s weird. It feels like something out of a fairytale. Your dad  _ definitely _ tells stories like that to little kids.”

Iwaizumi’s lips twitch toward a fond smile. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, I think Karasu struck a deal with the Horse God.”

The look fades. “That’s… a helluva claim.”

Karasu stops her stomping, looking at Oikawa intently.

“I think Karasu was smarter than anyone gave her credit for long before Daichi almost died. I think Karasu loves Daichi just as much as Daichi adores her. I think the Horse God thrives off of that kind of relationship. I think that Karasu may be our path to meeting the Horse God, and possibly discovering if there are other deities whom we could awaken.”

“Sakusa mentioned this once, and this is what you’ve come up with after thinking about it for so little time?”

Oikawa shrugs. “I did some research on the Horse God a while ago, because I wanted to be an expert on everything ancient. I didn’t necessarily think it’d come in handy in this sort of context, but this is why I take such careful notes, you know?” He smiles, excitement dancing in his eyes. “I want to be the first person in decades to meet the Horse God, even though I’ve never had a super strong relationship with horses like you and Daichi have. Or, if I can’t meet him because of my lack of horse knowledge, I want to witness  _ you _ meeting the Horse God. Talk about a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

He hums, looking down at his hands. “I’ve been lucky enough to be invited to watch legend unfold before me. I want to help. I can help. I can do this. Why did I bother reading all of those books and spending all of that time studying if now that it’s relevant, I can’t use it? I can’t let all that time I lost be wasted.”

Iwaizumi’s hands come to gently grip his wrists. “I know you can do this, you asshole. Of course you can. It’s really pissing me off how capable you are. But you haven’t wasted a moment of your time. You did that research because you like researching, Oikawa. You studied because you like studying. You like knowing things. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be able to regurgitate it. I’m not saying what you’ve been able to remember isn’t helpful - I’m just trying to say that you’re only human, right? There’s a lot of people on this quest. You’re not alone. It’s not on your shoulders to be the only one who knows anything about what’s going on every moment. Keep thinking. Keep planning.” He releases his wrists, rapping his knuckles against Oikawa’s forehead. “But don’t get stupid in efforts to look smart.”

“You know, Iwa-chan, you’re really sweet to me considering how much you claim I piss you off.” The teasing smile is  _ audible _ , but Iwaizumi looks up and admires the smirk anyways.

It takes effort to rid his face of emotion, but he manages it and turns a dead stare on Oikawa. “I can change that.”

Oikawa giggles, wrapping his arms around his neck. “You’re so cute, Iwa-chan!”

Kuroo is not looking at them, so he doesn’t see the way Iwaizumi chucks Oikawa to the ground, so there’s no proof he actually threw him anywhere, no matter how much Oikawa whines about it. 

(Iwaizumi has to hide his pleased smile, and Oikawa is still giggling.)

Yachi sighs. Kenma hadn’t been screaming, nothing like last time, but she’s still worried about him. His body had started floating and glowing, which means, even in astral form, he was casting. Something had gone wrong. Casting while in astral form was immensely taxing.

She’s there, waiting, when Kenma’s body, unconscious and cold, falls to the floor, eyes flashing gold once, a sign his soul is back in his body. She expects him to stir, so she waits.

And waits.

He does not stir, chest rising and falling gently. She sighs again.

Then goes and carefully scoops him up in her arms, letting his freezing body cuddle into her warmth. She carries him toward her quarters, laying him down on her extra cot. Her healing magic is much stronger than his, and though she’s still irritated with him, she’ll do this.

She can do this.

He can do that.

She takes a deep breath. Maybe that’s all there is to this. They are doing what they can.

She certainly can’t do what he’s doing.

She covers him in a warm blanket, starting a pot of tea and lighting some incense. If Kenma wore out his mana to the point where he can’t even be conscious for a few moments after returning to his body, then the best thing she can do for him is ensure his sleep is the most refreshing and comfortable rest he’s ever had.

He mumbles in his sleep, something about a dragon, then something about horses. 

She grinds a paste together: jasmine, gardenia, and lavender, with a little warm milk and flour. Carefully, she uses a weak fire spell to warm the balm up, and then spreads it over his forehead, his cheekbones, under his chin, and his collarbones. 

A gentle word, and the balm glows purple briefly. Kenma settles, no longer mumbling, snoring softly.

She nods. Better.

Someone knocks gently on her door. She goes to open it.

An elderly witch with grey hair and dancing brown eyes smiles up at her, missing several of her teeth. “Mail for you, Miss!” She hands over a letter.

Holding the envelope closed is a beautiful blue wax royal seal, an emblem of a merwoman, tail elegant and heavily muscled. Designed in honor of Queen Shimizu, who has successfully held the throne since her husband’s death. Her daughter, Shimizu Kiyoko, is also honored by this seal.

Yachi personally wonders what Kiyoko thinks of the seal, but is not nearly brave enough to ask her.

Gently prying the seal up, she pulls out the soft parchment. She reads the small, neat print slowly.

_ Dearest Yachi Hitoka, _

_ I hope you are well. I have just been awoken by the rising of the Hero. I wonder what he will remember, or if he will help Prince Sugawara at all. _

_ I have been well. My mother is starting to harass me about meeting new people. I am not social enough, she says. I do not go to parties or consider people as potential partners. I have tried to tell her I am satisfied with the friends I’ve made for myself, that I need no more, but she insists. _

_ As such, I’ve been invited to a ball in Wakutani. I’m not looking forward to it. While I know several people from there and they all are very nice, I’m simply not interested. I understand why my mother insists - connections are invaluable in this occupation, and the earlier you can start making them the better, but I believe in quality over quantity. I have a few amazing friends (yourself included), and I trust them to support me in whatever way I need. _

_ Anyway, I have not written to you just to complain. There is far more to be excited about than that. You must have felt the pulse when the Hero awakened, right? Even I, as not magical as my race is, was awoken by the pulse of magic his waking released. What do you know of his quest? Has he taken it up again? I have read that the Shrine of Resurrection steals one’s memories as recompense for giving new life. I wonder, is the Hero exempt from that price, seeing as his memories are key to saving this kingdom as we know it? _

_ I hope so. Vah Takeda gets more and more agitated every day. It’s not like when Vah Ukai went missing - it’s so much worse, Yachi. It’s going to break the dam protecting Haikyu from massive flooding. It’s ramming the dam wall, over and over and over again. The booms from the impact follow me into my dreams. _

_ My people are semi-aquatic. They would not suffer in a flood. And from where you are, perhaps you would not feel the impact. But all I can think of are the peoples in between, the animals and plants. There is so much that would be lost and destroyed. I cannot imagine it. _

_ We have hired covens of all kinds, in hopes to spell Vah Takeda into a ceasefire. Even if we cannot turn it back to our side, just the ability to stop it from causing more damage than we can negate would be wonderful. Though it constantly spews water, that is a challenge we can face. We can divert water down mountains, manually create new rivers that drain into the sea. Though it is difficult and strenuous work, it can be done. _

_ But the covens haven’t been successful. I have taken up a near permanent watch on the dam. Though the water moves with crushing force and impossibly fast, we’ve paid various covens to set up at various distances downhill of the dam, with hopes of slowing the flow long enough to evacuate people, or at the very least get them aboard boats, or in the arms of my people. Merpeople can keep them above water, swim them to safety. Karasuno is not big enough to house all the peoples of this kingdom, or even all the people who would be decimated by the flood.  _

_ We are constantly working to come up with a solution, from the youngest to the oldest of us. Just yesterday, a young girl, no more than ten winters old, suggested we try drinking all the water behind the dam, so that when Vah Takeda breaks through it, there is no water to cause a flood. _

_ I told her I would mention it to the council. Honestly, at this point, that is not the most outlandish idea that has been mentioned. _

_ One council member, who has since been removed from the council, dared suggest that if the people of this land could not survive the flood like the merpeople can, then they do not deserve to live. Sink or swim, he said. Let them sink. _

_ I kicked him from the council immediately and without remorse. When he tried to appeal to my mother to keep his seat, my mother backed my decision and politely had him escorted out of the palace. _

_ I feel like I could keep writing forever - this is one of the blessings of having a friend as kind as you - but my mother has scheduled a fitting so I may have a new dress for the ball at Wakutani. I don’t want my letter to feel disjointed, and besides, I’m running out of parchment space. _

_ Know that I’m thinking of you, and I hope you and yours are safe and well. _

_ Yours, _

_ Princess Shimizu Kiyoko _


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The quest continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowie its been a minute
> 
> listen this chapter is Rough and was Very hard to find the motivation to write, but i think i've gotten my rhythm back, so hopefully i'll be a little more consistent with my uploads.
> 
> classes are going to be starting soon, though, so the consistency might change a smidge... 
> 
> oof.
> 
> anywho, i hope you enjoy!!

Daichi takes a deep breath. Karasu is  _ clearly _ pissed all to hell, and being agitated himself will not help the situation. His head is pounding - all the horses except Karasu? Really?

What the hell.

There are signs in the clearing that the horses did not leave willingly, deep grooves in the dirt, which is almost more worrisome. Something strong enough to  _ drag _ a horse stole five tacked horses, plus the pack horse.

Hopefully, they’ll be able to track their path, due to the horses’ fighting.

Karasu, upon seeing him, charges up to him, chest heaving and nostrils flaring. She whinnies, high and irritated, stamping her massive hooves.

Daichi takes another deep breath, then smooths a palm from her forelock to the tip of her nose. Karasu goes still. He repeats the movement, then gently drags his knuckles down her cheek. “Breathe,” he murmurs. “Being angry isn’t going to help them. We’re going to get them back.”

Karasu huffs, but stops stamping.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m irritated,” he continues. “And I’m  _ sure _ it was incredibly frustrating to watch all of the other horses get dragged out of here.”

She nods, sharply enough that she accidentally headbutts him.

He chuckles. “The advantages of opposable thumbs,” he hums, moving to scratch her behind the ears. “Now, we’re going to need your help, Karasu. You’re our only witness. Can you show us where they went?”

Snorting, she whinnies again, and promptly trots over to the edge of the clearing, leading the way around rocks and uneven ground.

“You know, every day, I’m less convinced she’s a horse and more convinced she’s just a monster who happens to look like a horse,” Kuroo says quietly, walking alongside Daichi. “Where exactly did you find her again?”

Daichi shrugs. “No clue. The goddesses told me to whistle for her, and she came.”

Kuroo sighs deeply, patting Daichi on the back. “That doesn’t get any less weird, no matter how many times you bring it up.”

“I’m pretty sure Karasu’s just a horse, though,” Daichi says thoughtfully. “Her name was one of the first things I remembered all on my own, so I must have recognized her, you know? She must have been just like this one hundred years ago. I doubt she’s a monster. I don’t think Suga would have let me ride a monster, no matter how much I loved her.”

Karasu perks up at that, nickering softly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daichi chuckles, “I love you, dork.”

She snorts.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you at all,” Kuroo says after a moment’s pause. “She is  _ not _ just a horse.”

“Maybe not,” Daichi hums. He doesn’t really think so, but he understands that given how the other horses act, Karasu  _ is _ a bit strange. “She may be weird, but she’s good to the middle, and that’s all that matters to me.” He side-eyes Kuroo, a smirk working its way onto his face. “ _ You’re _ weird, after all, and we don’t toss you out.”

Kuroo mimes great offense. “Me?  _ Weird _ ?”

Bokuto cocks his head to the side as he comes up alongside them. “Didn’t you recognize the hero of legend by his horse? And then promptly drag him to meet your grandma?”

Kuroo flushes. “You don’t need to say it like  _ that _ . Daichi came willingly!”

“He probably figured it was better to indulge in your crazy rather than fight it,” Iwaizumi drawls from behind them, and Kuroo squawks.

“He did  _ not! _ ”

“I haven’t known either of you for very long,” Oikawa says, “But from the sound of it, that’s  _ exactly _ what happened, Kuroo.”

Kuroo pouts. “I feel very attacked. You all are mean. I deserve better.”

Daichi snorts, then slings an arm around Kuroo’s shoulders. “No matter how it happened, Kuroo’s proven to be a valuable friend and ally,” he says honestly, and Kuroo’s “hurt” seems to vanish instantly.

Daichi is almost relieved to discover the perpetrators are simple horse thieves, who saw an opportunity with the unattended (well, mostly unattended - Karasu would doubtlessly take offense to the idea that her watchful eye doesn’t count) horses and simply did their best to usher them away.

Unfortunately, horses are not subtle creatures at the best of times, and their horses know their riders. Iwaizumi’s horse catches a whiff of Iwaizumi, well before they’re visible, and lets out the loudest whinny. The other horses take up the cry and the horse thieves hesitate.

Which is the only opening Karasu needs.

Daichi had  _ intended  _ to help take the culprits down. Presumably, as did the others in his party.

Karasu, it turns out, does not need to help. 

He’s still not  _ entirely _ sure how she managed to take down six adult men, but he knows that he’s got a new level of respect/fear for his mount.

Kuroo nudges him. “Monster,” he murmurs.

“Shut up,” he mutters in return.

She trots over to the log that the horses were tied to, aims a powerful kick at the log, and splinters it.

“I hate to say it,” Oikawa sighs, placing a hand on his back. “Truly, this is my least favorite thing to do at the moment, but Kuroo is definitely right. And I’m a monster expert - you can’t tell me I’m wrong. Your horse is definitely not a horse.”

Iwaizumi pats Daichi on the shoulder. “Well, fortunately for you, my all-time favorite thing to do is disagree with Oikawa, so I’m going to side with you on this. Kuroo is definitely wrong, and Karasu is definitely just a horse.”

Daichi sighs deeply. “All of you are idiots.”

Bokuto hops around him. “You picked us!”

Akaashi gives him a sympathetic look. “He makes a good point. You have to admit, you have definitely made your own bed here.”

“I can unmake this bed,” Daichi glares at Akaashi. He thought Akaashi was the logical, nice one. Not the logical, mean one.

Iwaizumi snorts. “No, you can’t. You need us. Who else is going to put up with your ghost and goddess talking bullshit? You’d be utterly lost without us.”

Kuroo snickers, throwing his arms around Daichi’s neck and hanging off his back. “So unless you’ve got more tolerant friends hiding in your back pocket, it sounds like you’re stuck with us!”

Karasu comes prancing up, nipping at Kuroo’s hands to make him let go. She looks  _ all _ too proud of herself, especially as she circles around and herds the other horses toward their riders.

“Karasu, you’d tell me if you weren’t a horse, right?” Daichi asks, rubbing her neck. “They all think you’re a monster.”

She snorts, and if Daichi didn’t know better, he’d say it sounds like she’s laughing at the thought. Then she nuzzles Daichi, soothing his worries away.

“See?” Daichi says smugly. “She’d have told me.”

Oikawa steps forward with a dramatically pitying look on his face. “Daichi, if she was a horse, she wouldn’t have  _ told _ you anything, because she wouldn’t be able to talk.” He puts a hand on his shoulder, ignoring Karasu’s attempts to dislodge him. “Your idiots are staging an intervention. Come to terms with the fact that your mount only  _ looks _ like a horse.”

Karasu nickers, then nips at Oikawa’s hair, making him jump away.

“Karasu says the intervention over,” Daichi says tiredly, as Karasu, devious and all too intelligent, starts trotting after Oikawa, trying to nip at his hair again. 

Oikawa is screaming for help from Iwaizumi, who is laughing so hard that Kuroo has to hold him upright.

Bokuto is asking Akaashi if horses eat human hair.

Akaashi is admitting that he’s not sure.

“I picked a bunch of idiots for my friends,” he sighs. “That’s for sure.”

Okay, so, Bokuto’s no genius.

He knows that. He’s got a lot of things he’s really good at, but he’s not good at everything. His observational skills, for example, are lacking considerably. He knows this.

But Akaashi… looks…

Scared?

That can’t be right. Akaashi was stuck on top of Vah Yamji for almost two weeks, severely injured, and he didn’t look the least bit scared when they rescued him. So why does he look scared now?

They’re walking along the beautifully tiled road to the center of Karasuno, and Akaashi is pale and trembling. Does Akaashi know something Bokuto doesn’t? Is there a seer out there looking to communicate with them through Akaashi? Or is Akaashi a seer himself, which is why he’s nervous? He knows something’s coming? But wouldn’t he tell Daichi?

Bokuto is also not good at being subtle, so he waits until they’re a bit behind the others and asks, “What’s wrong, ‘Kaashi?”

Akaashi jumps a bit. “I’m fine, Sir Bokuto.”

Bokuto cocks his head to one side. “You don’t look fine, ‘Kaashi. Is your leg bothering you? I could carry you if you need. I’m pretty strong.”

“Thank you, Sir Bokuto, but I’m okay.”

“Then why do you look so scared?” Truly, Bokuto is not one to beat around the bush.

Akaashi flushes pink, swallows, and cautiously meets Bokuto’s gaze. “I am… not overly fond of large bodies of water, Sir Bokuto. They make me… nervous, I guess. I’m fine.”

“Oh!” Bokuto sighs, nodding his understanding. It does make sense - harpies are largely creatures of the sky. Their bodies were not made to swim, and so the vast majority of harpies go their entire lives without ever learning how.

The people of Karasuno though are entirely merpeople. Fins, scales, gills - all of it. Essentially, when it comes to compatible habitats, merpeople and harpies are almost complete opposites. While, technically, they can live in some of the same areas, harpies are made for the sky and merpeople are made for the water. 

“Why does water make you nervous?” Bokuto continues a moment later, realizing that while he has never actually swam before, the endless depths of water beneath the bridge on which they walk do not make him nervous in the same way.

Akaashi glances at him, then away. “I can’t swim. I’ve tried to learn… and… it didn’t go well.”

Bokuto hums and nods. “That’s too bad. But from all the way up here, you’ve got nothing to worry about! Even if something crazy were to happen and you were to fall, you can fly away so you’ll never touch the water!” He grins, and Akaashi gives him the smallest smile in return. “And maybe it’ll help if you focus on how pretty the water is instead of how scared of it you are!”

Huffing a chuckle, Akaashi hesitantly looks over the side. He backs away pretty quickly afterward, but he does hazard a smile toward Bokuto. “The blues are rather enchanting.”

“Exactly!” Bokuto laughs, hopping a bit as they continue on toward the center of the city. “Like the sky during the sunrise but even prettier!”

Akaashi smiles wider, and walks a bit closer to Bokuto. “Your enthusiasm is contagious, Sir Bokuto. Thank you for your help.”

“‘Course, ‘Kaashi!” Bokuto chirps, feathers ruffling a bit in pride. “Anytime!”

Daichi is blown away by the beauty of Karasuno. It’s  _ gorgeous  _ \- the towering spires of glass which glint in the sunlight, the mosaic pathways of bright colors and entrancing designs, the way that the people of Karasuno have worked around and with the mountains surrounding them to accentuate their city without destroying anything… It’s stunning, and Daichi feels a bit of the stress ease from his shoulders just looking at this place.

A merperson with freckles and long, elegant fins comes jogging up to them. “My name is Yamaguchi Tadashi!” he says, grinning. The grin shows off sharp teeth. “I’m supposed to escort you to the Queen!”

“Yamaguchi,” a groan comes, and the group’s gaze is dragged to another merperson, tall and lanky, who is squinting at Yamaguchi as he walks up. “You were supposed to wait so we could escort them together. It makes us look lame if you’re by yourself.”

Yamaguchi giggles. “Sorry, Tsukki.” 

Daichi ponders at the fact that Yamaguchi does not sound very sorry.

“This is Tsukishima Kei,” Yamaguchi introduces, turning back to Daichi’s group. “He’s one of the most talented warriors in Karasuno!”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima sighs.

“Sorry, Tsukki,” he grins in return, winking.

Tsukishima’s cheeks go pink, but Daichi decides not to comment on that, or on the fact that Yamaguchi sounds even less sorry than before.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name is Sawamura Daichi, and my group is made up of Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji, Oikawa Tooru, and Prince Iwaizumi Hajime. We’re glad to be here.”

Yamaguchi grins, hopping from foot to foot in excitement. “Let’s go see Queen Shimizu! She’s been anxiously awaiting your arrival! She’s an amazing queen! You’ll love her and she’s been so excited to meet you, Hero!”

“Yamaguchi, calm down. There’s no need to get all worked up. Besides, this is a pretty dire situation we’ve invited them into. There’s no use in pretending it’s not,” Tsukishima sighs. He massages his temples, or at least, the merperson equivalent of them. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Kuroo steps forward and places a hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder.

Kuroo’s pretty tall, so it kind of shocks Daichi to realize Kuroo looks  _ short _ next to Tsukishima.

“You’re kind of a buzzkill, String Bean,” Kuroo says with a grin, and it takes every scrap of resolve in Daichi’s whole body to resist the urge to facepalm. “I like Freckles’ enthusiasm. You’re making it sound like we’ve already lost!”

Tsukishima blinks at him, squinting again. “My name is Tsukishima. I would appreciate it if you would call me that. And while we’re on the subject, his name is Yamaguchi.”

Kuroo’s grin grows wider. “Yamaguchi here gets to call you a nickname, and you’re all grumpy with him all the time. I figured it was free rein.”

Tsukishima’s cheeks go hot. “Yamaguchi is my best friend. You are not.”

Yamaguchi grins brightly, grabbing onto Tsukishima’s arm. “You’re my best friend too, Tsukki!” He turns to Kuroo. “I don’t mind nicknames, as long as they’re not mean!” He says with a giggle. “Can I call you Rooster? Your hair is all tall and spiky like a rooster’s comb!”

Kuroo’s jaw drops, but the slow grin that spreads across his face is bright and teasing. “Sure thing, Freckles.”

“But really, you should probably just call Tsukki Tsukishima. He doesn’t like nicknames as much. It took me years to convince him to let me call him Tsukki as it is!”

“So Tsukki is allowed?” Kuroo smirks, and Tsukishima lets out the most tired sigh in existence.

Daichi smacks Kuroo upside the head. “What’s gotten into you? Stop antagonizing our escort! Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, I apologize on his behalf. He’s not usually like this. Please lead the way.”

Tsukishima seems relieved by the interruption and nods. “Yes sir, Sir Sawamura.” He grabs Yamaguchi’s arm, and sets a brisk pace toward the massive building in the middle of the city.

From a few paces back, Daichi can hear the way Yamaguchi is excitedly whispering in Tsukishima’s ear, and the way Tsukishima reluctantly answers him. Despite the complete lack of enthusiasm in his responses, Yamaguchi does not seem the least bit discouraged and continues talking.

Tsukishima, Daichi notices, does nothing to stop him. So he must not dislike it as much as he says.

The throne room has arching ceilings, with water features in every corner. Members of the court stop and stare as Daichi leads the way to the throne, where the merqueen sits.

He’s  _ pretty  _ sure he outranks her, so he does not kneel, but the others do. “Queen Shimizu,” he nods his greeting. “My name is Sir Sawamura Daichi. I understand we may have met sometime in the past, but the Shrine of Resurrection has stolen my memories. Your city is beautiful.”

“Greetings, Sir Sawamura. It has been a long time.” The queen’s voice is quiet and unassuming. “We have anxiously awaited your arrival. Rumor has it you’ve already returned two of the Divine Beasts to our side?”

Daichi nods. “Vah Yamji and Vah Mizoguchi are now fighting for us once again.”

She smiles. “That is most excellent. It was my brother who piloted Vah Takeda one hundred years ago, and knowing his sacrifice will not be in vain is comforting. My husband’s subsequent death trying to save my brother was… heart-breaking.”

“I… I am indescribably sorry for your loss, Queen Shimizu,” Daichi says quietly. “The loss of lives is a tragedy unparalleled in this war.” He looks up at her, meeting her eyes with an intense gaze. “We will not lose. Their lives will not have been lost in vain.”

A slow smile creeps across her face. “Your determination gives me strength.” She turns to her side, where another merperson sits in a smaller throne. “Allow my daughter, Shimizu Kiyoko, princess of Karasuno, to tell you all we know about Vah Takeda.”

Princess Kiyoko steps forward, her two guards flanking her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Sawamura. I’ve been gathering information regarding Vah Takeda in hopes of assisting you in its take-down. I’m pleased to see you’ve brought help of your own, but I offer you my two personal guards, Tanaka and Nishinoya, as assistance in your quest.”

When their names are mentioned, the two of them grin ghoulishly, revealing sharp, white teeth. “At your service, Hero,” they chorus, rolling their shoulders so their scales shimmer in the light.

“I’m Tanaka Ryuunosuke,” the one on the left says. He’s maybe a little taller than Daichi, ripped, and has fierce looking fins arcing off his head.

“Nishinoya Yuu,” the one on the right grins, hands on his hips. He’s pale, but has dark scales with random zags of yellow. His tail, heavily muscled but narrow, lashes around his feet, the broad fan at the end sharp.

“They are some of the most talented warriors Karasuno has to offer,” Princess Kiyoko says with a gentle smile. “We would be honored if you allowed them to fight at your side.”

“The honor is ours,” Daichi says easily, smiling at Tanaka and Nishinoya. “Your assistance is most welcome.”

“You know,” Daichi hears Iwaizumi whisper to presumably Oikawa or Kuroo, “for someone who has no memories, he certainly speaks diplomat stupidly well.”

“He could have been just copying how others speak to him,” Oikawa offers.

“Nah, I think it’s just who he is,” Kuroo whispers. “I think he just can communicate with whomever he needs to. It’s like… a super power.”

Daichi sighs - so he was whispering to both Oikawa  _ and  _ Kuroo - and pretends he can’t hear them. “Please, Princess, share your wisdom with us.”

To his surprise, she giggles, a webbed hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Just some observations, really. I don’t have much in the way of wisdom to offer you.”

Daichi gestures for her to continue with a smile.

“Vah Takeda was not designed for offense,” she says, smile fading. “From both the design of the beast itself, and from the way it moves and responds to its environment, this is fairly obvious. It is a beast designed for defense, both in the sense of defending a set goal, and defending itself. It is capable of a wide variety of skills that may not seem, outwardly, like that strong of weapons, but can easily take down large swathes of attackers at once. This is part of the reason that so many expeditions toward taking down this beast thus far have been utterly unsuccessful. It is, for lack of a better word, unreachable. No one, since Champion Shimizu died, has even gotten close to Vah Takeda.

“The weapons it dual-wields are water and electricity. It can produce massive quantities of water, seemingly from nowhere, then has the ability to electrocute anything within a large bubble around it. What it often does is flood the ground around it, and blast it with electricity. Anything in contact with the water is electrocuted. If that fails to properly neutralize the threat, it will then use its size to squash any remaining opposition. If that weren’t enough, it can use either without using the other. It can release floodwaters without electrocuting, and can electrocute the area around it without pouring a drop of water.

“Right now, it’s stomping around northwest of Karasuno,” she continues, gesturing over her shoulder. “It’s been trying to flood the dam, presumably ever since you woke up. Karasuno citizens have been working around the clock to mitigate the threat to the rest of Haikyu, but if Vah Takeda isn’t neutralized soon, there will be casualties.” She says this calmly, without an ounce of doubt.

“Your best shot,” she takes a scroll from Nishinoya, “at taking down Vah Takeda is a coordinated strike where you do your best to overwhelm Vah Takeda. While it can endlessly produce water, the charge for the lightning has a recharge period. It is my belief that if you can get inside, it can no longer electrocute you.” The scroll is a blueprint of the beast, with as much detail as Princess Kiyoko can determine. She points out where the entrance is, and how one might get up there.

“While I believe whole-heartedly that you are capable of winning, I feel it necessary to warn you. Twenty Karasuno citizens have perished because of Vah Takeda. Twelve harpies. Six humans. There have been people who have tried - strong, talented, brave people. People that felt like they should have won and lost. This is the culmination of  _ decades _ of people trying and failing to stop Vah Takdea, and you should not, under any circumstances, go in without observation and as much assistance as you can. The other Divine Beasts, from my understanding of our records, are attack based. If you can get close, there’s only minimal threats from there. Vah Takeda isn’t like that. You need to be careful. It can and will take you out. It is intentional, calculated, and deadly. It is my belief that it took Vol more effort to control this beast, and so its grip on it is tighter.”

Daichi swallows. “Thank you, Princess Kiyoko. Your advice is most welcome, and we will heed your warning. Where are the best locations to observe Vah Takeda from?”

She seems to breathe a sigh of relief, smiling. “Tanaka and Noya will show you.”

Queen Shimizu chuckles. “I told you Sir Sawamura would listen. You worried for naught.”

Daichi frowns. He opens his mouth to ask what that means, but Princess Kiyoko beats him to the punch.

“I have offered this same advice to many would-be heroes, Sir Sawamura. I have told them to be wary, I have told them of the threats that Vah Takeda poses to any potential invaders. I suggested they observe the beast to get a feel for how it moves, what triggers attacks. They did not listen. Many of them paid the ultimate price, and some of them are going to spend the rest of their days with Karasuno’s court physician, as they are too injured to go anywhere else.”

Daichi swallows again. “Understandable why you would be concerned, then.”

She smiles at him. “With you being the Hero, I had concerns that your quest would end here. That… That is not an option, as I’m sure you understand better than anyone.”

“We won’t let him end here,” Kuroo says with another bow. “You can count on us, Princess.”

“We’ve got his back!” Bokuto bounds up, jumping up and down behind Daichi with his hands on his shoulders.

Princess Kiyoko seems to notice the harpies for the first time. “It is just as well that Tanaka and Noya are willing to assist you,” she says, voice tinged with sympathy. “Your harpy friends will not be able to join you.”

Bokuto and Akaashi stiffen.

“Vah Takeda is surrounded in water. Unless they can swim, they will likely have a difficult time reaching it. Vah Takeda electrocutes anything flying that comes near it. The water is filled with dead bird and bug corpses, if you require proof beyond my word. One of the reasons I had suggested Tanaka and Noya go with you is that they can swim, probably faster than any of you.”

Bokuto and Akaashi both frown.

“If they can’t get close,” Daichi says, before they can come up with an argument, “that’s fine. I want them as close as they can safely get. Is there armor they can wear that, at least for a short time, can protect them from getting electrocuted? If we need an escape, they’ll probably be our best chance. Both of them are talented flyers, and strong enough that they can carry multiple people at once.”

Both Bokuto and Akaashi seem to relax at that assurance, that refusal to leave them behind.

“No,” Princess Kiyoko says with a frown. “There is no armor that we have been able to create. But there are tonics and elixirs created in cooperation by the court physician and court sorcerer that can bolster one’s tolerance for electricity. That is what we have been giving any would-be heroes. I don’t believe the elixirs have ever been tested on harpies, as our would-be heroes have been primarily merpeople and humans, but I can ask them whether or not they are compatible.”

Akaashi speaks up, quietly. “Princess, if the elixirs and tonics work on harpies, is there any reason we cannot join the assault? Sir Sawamura is under our protection. He is our leader. You can understand why we would be unwilling to leave his side, especially when he is to be in immense danger.”

Princess Kiyoko meets his gaze unerringly. “Can you swim?”

He does not blink, owlish eyes holding her gaze. “No.”

Her stare flicks to Bokuto. “Can you?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve never tried.”

“Then there is still reason.” She gestures to the rest of their party. “The lightning strikes are rarely lethal, just utterly debilitating for a period of time. Since it is distracted, it will likely not finish the job, but if you fall into the water and are unable to swim, that will finish the job for Vah Takeda. Or, one of your allies will have to abandon the attack in order to save you, which lessens the number of distractions and increases the likelihood that Vah Takeda will simply stamp you into mush before any sort of rescue can be made.”

The harpies are silent.

“It would be best, as Sir Sawamura suggested, for you both to remain the last resort. You will still be protecting him. You would not be losing sight of him. You-”

“Until he gets on board,” Akaashi interrupts, eyes fierce. He seems unaware of the way that Tanaka and Noya shift their grips on their spears. “You said no one has boarded Vah Takeda in one hundred years. There is no telling what dangers await them there. Merpeople are weak to fire, correct? There could be a whole range of fire monsters that would render your guard helpless.”

“Do  _ not  _ interrupt my daughter,” Queen Shimizu says, a protective edge to her tone.

“ _ Akaashi _ ,” Daichi snaps, when the harpy opens his mouth again. “Enough.”

Akaashi closes his mouth, lowering his gaze. “My apologies, Princess.” He doesn’t exactly sound sorry, but Princess Kiyoko nods all the same.

There’s a moment of quiet.

“You will wait and act as our last resort,” Daichi commands, keeping his gaze firmly on Akaashi. “When we get on board, we’ll try to find a way to disable the electricity, so you can join us. As much as your priority is keeping me safe, mine, in turn, is keeping you safe. If I am your leader, and if you trust my word, you’ll do as I ask.”

Akaashi and Bokuto nod, though neither of them look particularly happy about it.

“You must be tired,” Queen Shimizu says, after the silence grows long. “My servant will show you to your quarters. Rest, and when you have rested, join us for a feast. Then, Tanaka and Nishinoya will show you where Vah Takeda is rampaging.”

When Kenma wakes, his head hurts.

Like, a lot.

His mana is still almost entirely drained, so he can’t even conjure up a tonic. He sighs deeply, jumping a bit when a tonic in a small glass vial with a bulging cork lands on the bed in front of him. 

“You’ve been out for almost a week and a half,” Yachi says, her voice tired and concerned. “I was beginning to worry you’d never wake up.”

Kenma’s gaze slowly drifts over to her, where she sits on her stool. “Does he know?”

Her lips twitch downward. “He knows you were hurt, and knows you haven’t been conscious in over a week, but I didn’t tell him why. I told him it was your secret to share when you’re ready.”

He lets out a slow breath. “Thank you for that, Yachi.”

She nods. “Are you okay?”

He stretches, wincing as his muscles cramp. “I think so. I’ll need to let my mana recover before I do any magic for a while.”

“Did you get to talk to him?”

He nods. “He knows who I am now, and is going to help me make sure our connection is clear, so it should be less dangerous in the future.”

Yachi hums, turning back to her desk. “That tonic should relieve any pain you’re in. I purified it thrice.”

He downs it gratefully, sighing as the pain in his limbs and in his head melt away. “Thank you for caring for me.”

She flaps a hand over her shoulder. “You would do the same for me, if you were in my place.” She’s writing something, probably a letter to her friend on the other side of Haikyu, if Kenma were to guess. “As much as I disagree with your methods, I understand your drive to help. I can and do respect that. Your willingness to put your all into something, unafraid of the consequences is admirable.”

Kenma blinks. “Your courage to argue and fight for what you think is right, even with your friends, is just as admirable, Yachi.”

She’s not looking at him, but he knows she’s smiling. “I’m done fighting with you. I hate arguing. You’ve heard my arguments, and that’s enough. You’re an adult. You can make your own decisions. I’ll just do my best to ensure you make it out alive.”

The smallest smile crawls onto his face. “Deal.” Then, he looks down at his hands. “I did hear what you said,” he continues, quieter. “I’ll think about it. Maybe there’s a way I can be even safer.”

Yachi turns at that, her eyes soft. “That’s all I can ask for.”

A sudden, niggling sensation tickles the back of his mind, and Kenma frowns. A vision. He hates ignoring them - the contents are always unpredictable but rarely useless, but he doesn’t really have the mana to have a vision right now. He presses the feeling back, ignoring the way it struggles against him.

Usually, it fades away after a few moments, seemingly giving up.

But this vision does not give up.

It presses harder and harder, and Kenma squeezes his eyes shut, pouring all of his concentration into keeping the vision back.

It breaks through his walls like a charging warhorse.

Yachi hears him collapse limply onto the bed with a pained moan, and she spins. His eyes are open, glowing red.

A vision is usually what the red glow means.

But Kenma had  _ just said _ his mana was low. He wouldn’t have accepted a vision now, would he? He had told Yachi he always has a choice, that visions are not required burdens for seers. So, he had to  _ choose _ to take this vision, didn’t he? But why -

Kenma shoots upright, eyes wide in panic. “Yachi, I need your help!” He shouts, scrambling to his feet, only for his knees to give out on him so he crashes to the floor. “This is an emergency!”

Yachi has never seen him move so fast, so desperately. He’s dragging his weak body across the floor with little regard for himself, heading for the door. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re going to lose!” He growls, straining to reach the doorknob. “The Hero and Kuroo and all their friends - they’re going to  _ lose _ , Yachi!”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall wanted angst, right?
> 
> ... right?

They’re going to lose.

The thought makes Kuroo’s heart stutter.

Lose.

The thought seems blasphemous. 

But how else is he supposed to read this situation?

They had watched the beast for a long time. Even Princess Kiyoko had been satisfied with their prep work. They had prepared the best they could. They were armed to the teeth. Princess Kiyoko had collected extensive research - what weapons were the most effective, which strategies got the closest, what the strengths of the would-be heroes who came closest to victory were, and what their weaknesses were.

Her research was extensive, and her evidence supporting her claims was sound. 

Was it so unreasonable to believe they had a chance?

Was that so greedy?

Nishinoya snarls, taking another blast from Vah Takeda so Kuroo, who’s clinging to him so he doesn’t drown, doesn’t get electrocuted.

_ Maybe the legends are wrong _ , Kuroo’s mind whispers. His lungs catch with what might be a sob, but he has no intention of letting enough of the feeling free to find out.

Tanaka, carrying Daichi, went down first. An impeccably timed strike from his blindside, and Daichi was sent flying. 

Nishinoya, at the time dragging both Oikawa and Iwaizumi behind him, had charged to distract them, so a few of the other merpeople who ended up volunteering - Kinoshita and Narita - can get Daichi and Tanaka out of the way.

Oikawa had seized the first opportunity that happened to come his way. The beast had lashed a long, tentacle-like limb at them, and he had grabbed on in a feat that Kuroo could never hope to replicate.

But he couldn’t keep his grip - the beasts are all made of a material no current technology could match, and this beast is covered in water and is  _ designed _ to be hard to infiltrate.

He’s flung to the far side of the reservoir.

Iwaizumi let out the most strangled, pained cry Kuroo’s ever heard, and leapt off of Nishinoya to swim out to him. 

Which meant, Nishinoya, without people who were supposed to be armed with bows and helping distract and hopefully disable some of Vah Takeda’s defenses, was virtually a flea to Vah Takeda.

Which meant, as Kuroo soon discovered, extracting Tanaka and Daichi, the former of whose movement was shaky and unsteady, the latter of whom was still coughing up water, was only going to get more complicated.

The beast seemed to have a tracker on Sir Sawamura Daichi and without any other pressing threats to its defense, it fired a beam of pure lightning at him, where he was treading in the water, having sent Narita and Kinoshita to help Tanaka first, who took the brunt of the initial hit.

Daichi was only  _ narrowly _ saved from getting smashed into a pulp by an incredible dive by Akaashi. The wave that followed the stomp of the monstrous beast’s foot sent both Oikawa and Iwaizumi under, and Kuroo, who was clinging to a fifth merperson by the name of Ennoshita at the time, was drenched.

He didn’t know what to do. He was standing in the equivalent of a burning house - everywhere he looked, there was something that needed his immediate attention. Ennoshita seemed to be having the same dilemma, darting from side to side, his forehead dripping in sweat, slitted eyes wide in dismay.

Nishinoya had taken up an abandoned spear, probably left by a would-be hero, swimming at maximum speed toward the beast’s forelegs. Like a wild stallion, it reared up on its tentacles, and Ennoshita had cried out, exploding into motion so fast that Kuroo had been left behind.

And Nishinoya should be damned grateful Ennoshita did, because he’s the only reason he survived.

Ennoshita had, contrary to what Kuroo had expected, dashed toward the beast’s rear. He raked his webbed, clawed fingers over its plates, making horrible screeching sounds. He scrambled up one of the tentacles, using a small dagger as his handhold when the plates were clashing together, threatening to squash his fingers.

The beast had its attention ripped from Nishinoya, who did not relent his attack, diving under and then leaping out of the water, and chucked the spear at one of the spires which the lightning seemed to be coming from.

His aim was impeccable. If only that’s what went wrong.

Kuroo’s heart had stopped, fully paused, at the terrified, tortured cry that came from above him.

Vah Takeda, in an attempt to shake Ennoshita and dissuade Nishinoya from trying again, had let out a series of uncoordinated, unaimed bolts of lightning.

One of those shots hit Akaashi, who had just swooped upward after dropping Daichi off with Narita and Kinoshita.

He was plummeting toward the water.

Bokuto’s cry was one he recognized - the determined, single-minded focus.

Time seemed to crawl.

Bokuto was nose-diving for Akaashi. He wouldn’t have time to both grab Akaashi and pull up before hitting the water.

Daichi was still struggling to regain his wits, clearly dazed and panicked.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa were struggling to keep their heads above water. Blood was streaming down Oikawa’s face.

Ennoshita and Nishinoya had finally been thrown from Vah Takeda, and both were retreating - Ennoshita to where Bokuto and Akaashi were likely to collide, Nishinoya to Kuroo.

“We’re going to lose,” Kuroo had gasped, as another massive wave threatened to pull him under for good.

Nishinoya had gotten to him a moment later.

“What do we do?” Nishinoya’s raspy voice had yelled, glancing at Kuroo out of the corner of his eye.

And now here they are.

Kuroo’s mind races.

What  _ do  _ they do?

They can’t lose. If Nishinoya takes too many more strikes, he’s going to pass out.

“We need to retreat!” Kuroo says. “RETREAT!” He yells as loud as he can, hoping to be heard over the crash of the water. 

Can they retreat? Do they even have the stamina and power to do that?

Is this… Is this where it all ends?

Before they even face Vol for real?

His head starts to pound, and for the briefest moment, he thinks it's just from the stress. But the ache is all too familiar.

“This is the  _ worst _ time,” he mutters at Kenma before he’s even materialized in front of him. “I thought you were a seer.”

Kenma appears floating above the water, and the panic on his features is clear. “Kuroo!” he shouts, and Kuroo feels a tug at his heart.

Kenma had worried about him.

Golden eyes dart around the reservoir, taking in the situation. He turns back to Kuroo. “You can’t lose here! That merperson needs to get the two from Seijoh out of here!” He points to Ennoshita, whose eyes are focused on the way Bokuto and Akaashi plummet toward the water. “Get the baldie to call for backup! He’s got this shell thing that he can call for help with! Bokuto will get Akaashi out alive! Get your ride to take you the hell out of here! Now, Kuroo!”

Kuroo blinks, then realizing that Nishinoya hasn’t even realized that Kuroo’s focused on anything other than Vah Takeda and their friends, relays instructions.

Nishinoya hesitates only a moment, before shouting at Ennoshita and Tanaka.

Then grips Kuroo’s arms, and takes off for the shore.

It’s not until Kuroo, and all of his friends, are gasping on the beach, most of them bleeding from one place or another, at the bare minimum, covered in bruises, that he realizes that Kenma is… still hovering in his peripherals.

“What more information do you have?” He asks, trying not to sound sharp and irritated. “Isn’t this taxing for your mana?”

Some tiny, subconscious part of his brain notices the way his friends look up at him, concerned.

Kenma shuffles his feet, though the grass does not even shiver his movements. “I have no more information. I only saw how you would die, should I do nothing to prevent it. I don’t get to choose my visions.”

Kuroo frowns. “But that only answers my first question.”

If Kuroo isn’t mistaken, and he very well could be, Kenma’s cheeks tinge pink. “It’s not taxing my mana.”

His eyes narrow. “That’s… vague. I know I don’t understand all this magic stuff, but I thought you said all magic requires magic.”

Kenma doesn’t look any less nervous. “That’s because I’m no longer performing magic.”

Kuroo reaches out, and his hand ghosts through Kenma effortlessly. “You’re not here. So unless I’m hallucinating, you’re using magic.”

“Do you know what kind of magic I use to communicate like this?” Kenma says quietly, in a voice so resigned that if Kuroo wasn’t looking him in the eyes, he would assume he didn’t care.

Kuroo shakes his head, dumbstruck by the expression on Kenma’s face.

“It’s… generally not recommended for use. It’s dangerous. In most texts, it’s called soul-linking. I use your soul, which is essentially made up of the less physical parts of your mind - your ideals, your morals, your dreams, your nightmares, your loves and hates, etc - and wrap mine around it, allowing you to perceive me.”

Kuroo’s frown deepens. “Which means.”

“Which means that,” Kenma groans, “I have to be careful. Souls are finicky, and not exactly good at surviving outside of bodies. If I let myself get stranded somewhere between us, I would die in moments. If… If I fail to keep a way back clear, I’m… stranded.”

“You… You’re stuck with me.”

“Literally. My soul is clinging to your body so I don’t fade to nothing.” Kenma shrugs like it’s no big deal, but his shoulders are tight and his fingers tap a rapid, unsteady beat on his legs.

“What does that mean for me?”

“It… It means that I’m going to be with you until either you get me back to my body and my witch friend who can help reattach my body to my soul, or until you die and end up killing us both.”

Kuroo takes a slow breath. “So all of my friends think I’m talking to thin air?”

Kenma nods.

“Kenma, are you okay?” He says.

Kenma shrugs again. “It’s… It’s not that weird. And I was able to get your friends out of danger. I was worried I was going to be too late.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Kenma shrugs a third time. “I’m… What has happened is actually about the best possible situation that could have happened. I’m still alive. You’re…  _ probably _ not going to die before getting me back to my body. Besides, you are gonna end up near where I live anyways.”

“That’s still not what I asked.”

“I’m okay,” Kenma says finally, eyes narrowing in irritation. “I just told you. This is fine.”

“So you’re literally going to be stuck to me for… weeks.”

“Yes.”

“Can you read my mind?”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “No. Even if I could, I would block it out. Your head is not a place I want to be.”

“Will you still have visions like this?”

Kenma looks at him now, golden eyes glittering with concern. Clearly, that hadn’t occurred to him yet. “I don’t know.”

“Kuroo?” Daichi’s voice pulls his attention away.

Kuroo looks over at him, surprised when Daichi flinches hard. “Kenma’s stuck with me for a while until we can find his body.”

Daichi blinks. “But we can’t see him.”

“Yes.”

“Your eyes are glowing.” This is Bokuto, who is creeping forward, still soaking wet and trembling in the breeze. In his wide, golden eyes, Kuroo can see the reflection of his own eyes, which are, indeed, glowing bright yellow, just like Kenma’s do when he’s doing magic in soul form.

“Oh,” he says, looking over to Kenma. “Is that normal?” He ignores the way Oikawa snorts.

Kenma shrugs. “Most people don’t stick to the nearest body and try to force themselves back and fade to nothing.”

Kuroo takes a deep breath. “I’m talking to someone no one else can see, my eyes are glowing and might not stop until you’re back in your body, and we just lost against Vah Takeda.”

The group goes silent.

“Well,  _ shit _ .”

Daichi feels failure like a noose tightening around his lungs. It takes every ounce of strength in his body to look Princess Kiyoko in the eyes.

He doesn’t eat. He’s not hungry.

The others are looking to him for a plan. An idea. A hint of a new strategy, but Daichi has  _ nothing _ . He’s empty. They lost.

That’s not even Vol yet and they  _ lost _ .

Akaashi hasn’t stopped trembling yet. He stutters when he speaks. He’s got a nasty burn along his leg which fried most of the feathers there. It’s exposed and raw.

Oikawa’s got a nasty cut near his hairline. He and Iwaizumi are both stiff, their muscles pushed to the brink in their effort to keep their heads above the water.

Bokuto lost some of his feathers when he hit the water. Akaashi also ripped some out when he grabbed him, desperate to not fall into the tumultuous waves. 

And Kuroo has a ghost seer attached to him now.

All the merpeople suffered injuries. They’re covered in burns and bruises and all lost patches of scales in the combat.

Both the merpeople and the harpies assure him their lost features will grow back in time. They’ll be fine.

Daichi is not reassured, but he tells them he is.

What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell them? How… How can he lead them, when he failed them? What… What is he supposed to do? What  _ can _ he do?

He finds himself wandering Karasuno, empty and distant. It’s truly a beautiful city. He observes it with a detached, vague appreciation.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to say. He needs to tell Princess Kiyoko, Queen Shimizu. What is he going to say? What can he tell them? Will they lose hope?

Has  _ he _ lost hope?

He has to save Suga. He has to.

Maybe, he should do this alone. So no one else gets hurt. 

He wants to talk to Suga, more than anything. Suga would know what to say, what to do. Suga would give him hope.

But he can’t. And that…  _ that _ hurts the most.

He’s not surprised when Bokuto approaches him, a cautious tension to his stance. “Daichi, we should talk about what we’re going to do.”

Daichi nods.

“The others are waiting in Kuroo’s quarters.”

He nods again, beginning to walk in that direction.

Bokuto walks alongside him. His eyes are glued to Daichi.

Daichi just ignores him.

When they enter Kuroo’s quarters, everyone’s eyes dart to him. Shame threatens to eat him alive.

They’re worried about  _ him _ . They should be worried about themselves. They should be worried about making it back home to their loved ones. They should worry about Daichi’s ability to lead, about Daichi’s competency as a hero, and they’re worried about his puny little  _ feelings _ .

He could vomit.

“Daichi, we’ve been trying to think of our next step,” Kuroo starts, carefully. Daichi hates the way they’re tiptoeing around him. “We-”

“I don’t know,” Daichi snaps. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what we should try. I don’t know if there’s a way to do it at all.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen. “No one does, Daichi.”

“But no one else is supposed to have the answer,” Daichi says, voice hard. “That’s why you asked me here, right? I’m supposed to have the answer. I’m supposed to know. That’s why I’m the Hero. I’m supposed to win. Legends say I’ve got this.” He snorts derisively. “Well, that’s a damned lie. I don’t know what to do.”

Kuroo’s face is lined with hurt. “We asked you here because you’re a part of this party. You should be a part of the discussion.”

Daichi flinches. “Should I be, though? It’s my fault we lost.” His eyes are burning. “It’s my fault. I said we had seen enough. I said we could win. I told you all what to do. You were following  _ my orders _ .”

“Daichi, that’s not-”

“If you finish that sentence with  _ fair _ , I will leave you behind,” Daichi snarls. 

Kuroo freezes. His shock, his pain feels like a blow to the heart.

He doesn’t mean that.

“Nothing about this situation is fair to  _ any  _ of you. Because I got hurt one hundred years ago, countless thousands of people died. It’s  _ my _ fault families were decimated, cities and towns and villages were destroyed. It’s my fault that Sugawara Koushi is stuck in a castle with the biggest monster our world knows and it’s my damned fault that all of you are hurt. You’re hurt now, you were hurt before, and you’ll only get more hurt.”

He has to swallow, something creeping up his throat threatening to choke out his words. “It’s my fault that Queen Sugawara died. It’s my fault all the first Champions died. Every person who suffered, every person who lost someone, every damned fire and piece of rubble - they’ve  _ all _ been stiffed. It wasn’t fair to them. None of it. So don’t you  _ dare _ tell me I’m being unfair. I have no right to complain. Not when  _ I _ was the one who stiffed them all.”

“Shut your  _ damn mouth _ ,” Oikawa growls, eyes blazing. “Selfish bastard.” 

Everyone in the room stares at him.

“Selfish,  _ stupid  _ bastard,” Oikawa continues, unfazed by the attention. “You think just because you’re wallowing in self-doubt and sadness and loneliness that you get to be an asshole to your friends? All of us are scared. All of us feel like it’s our fault, dipshit. It  _ is _ unfair, you can’t blame yourself for something out of your control, dumbass. Did you summon Vol? Did you write the prophecy that’s thousands of years old? Did you ask for that damned plate, or for the weight of the world on your shoulders? Did you  _ try _ to die one hundred years ago? And most of all, do you really think Prince Sugawara Koushi blames one  _ speck  _ of you for this war?

“You don’t  _ get _ to be cruel to your friends. You’re stressed, I know. I get it. We all get it. You think we’re not stressed too? I’m sure you’re thinking that we expect you to have the magical solution to all of our problems. Well, you don’t have it and that’s just something we’ll have to deal with. So what? None of us are strangers to bumps in the road. We’re going to figure something out. None of us are giving up, and none of us are about to be left behind because  _ you’re  _ feeling insecure.”

There’s a long moment of silence. 

Oikawa’s chest is heaving. Iwaizumi’s hand has drifted to his shoulder, giving it a gentle, supportive squeeze.

As though the cork was pulled free from the bottle, Daichi breaks down sobbing. When his knees give out, it’s Kuroo who catches him on his left, Bokuto on his right.

Sugawara Koushi hisses in agony, his hands shaking as he tries to staunch the bleeding.

Damn lizalfos.  _ Dammit _ .

It took every drop of adrenaline in his body to get him back to his hideout, and even then, he’d had to barricade his doors. They would eventually forget they saw him here, but it would be a long couple days.

He twitches involuntarily as the wound spasms in pain, gasping so he doesn’t scream. His muscles are screaming from being tensed for so long, and he’s  _ so tired _ . Maybe it’d be okay if he didn’t have to move for a few days. 

Tears stream down his cheeks. He’s going to have to change the bandage again before nightfall, then again as soon as he wakes up in the morning. The pain is overwhelming. He doesn’t  _ think _ the wound has been poisoned, but he really has no idea.

This isn’t the kind of wound that will heal in a few sunrises. Even if he can walk without being in excruciating agony in a few days, he won’t be able to run. At best, he’ll probably be able to manage a shamble. Lizalfos are fast.

He can’t afford to be slow.

He can’t afford to get caught.

What is he going to do? What  _ can _ he do? He’s hurt. There’s no way to go back in time and fix this.

He takes a deep breath as he finally secures the bandage in place, leaning back against the wall. He needs to think rationally.

He has enough food stored here to last him a few weeks, if he rations well. Maybe in a couple weeks, he’ll be able to run for short distances. The wound isn’t  _ that _ deep, after all. He’ll figure it out. It’ll be fine.

He takes a swig of the bottle of whiskey. He’d had to drink a lot just to be able to wrap the wound. His stomach is warm and his head is fuzzy.

His eyes fall closed. He’s asleep before he can plug the bottle back up with the cork.

When he wakes, he’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating. His eyes aren’t even open yet, but he’s pretty sure he… he can... 

He’s pretty sure that’s Daichi’s voice.

Maybe the wound  _ was _ poisoned. That would make sense. It’s not bad enough to seriously maim him, after all. Even if it hurt Vol, lizalfos aren’t exactly intelligent. He’s been running circles around them for decades. That has to build up resentment. Vol would punish them, but the damage has been done.

He peels his eyes open, if for no other reason than to rewrap his leg. 

He jumps. Daichi is…

Sitting in front of him. Cross-legged, eyes red and puffy, hair frumpled and clothes haphazard. He’s…

“Daichi?” he croaks. 

Daichi smiles weakly. “Hey, Suga.”

Suga rubs his eyes, more sure than ever that he’s hallucinating. Daichi isn’t  _ usually _ see-through. “I’m going crazy,” he mutters, corking the bottle of whiskey. He wants to believe he won’t need it to rewrap his leg, but he doesn’t put it out of reach.

“Suga, I’m really here,” Daichi says, a touch of concern in his voice. “This isn’t craziness talking. There are witches helping me. I think they… They called it astral projection, I think? Apparently it’s some sort of altered soul-linking. It’s safer.”

Suga winces, pushing himself so he’s sitting up a little straighter. “I’m not convinced,” he mutters, gingerly pulling the end of the bandage free.

“Suga, I… I need you.”

Suga pauses. 

It doesn’t matter. If this Daichi is a hallucination, or if he’s the real thing, or if it’s neither of the above. If Daichi needs help, he’ll help.

He meets Daichi’s eyes. “What can I do?”

“I… I need… you to listen? I need advice, and… I think I need you to yell at me.”

He can’t help it, the tiny little giggle that escapes. That’s such a  _ Daichi _ thing to say. That, he finds, convinces him more than anything that this really is Daichi talking to him. “Okay. Lay it on me. I’ll prepare my yelling voice.”

Daichi begins slowly, detailing everything that had happened between the last time they had spoken and now. He jumps around a bit, talking about all of his friends and how they mesh. He tells Suga about every in-group argument they’ve had since Vah Mizoguchi. He’s very careful, the way he speaks, meticulous and honest. Every word is raw and true.

When he talks about reaching Karasuno, Suga can feel the driving reason behind this conversation in his words. He’s horrified once Daichi starts talking about what happened with Vah Takeda, the way that all of his friends were injured and that they had to retreat. Daichi’s voice cracks when he tells Suga they lost, and that he doesn’t know what to do.

He tells Suga about how he yelled at his friends, the people who have been there for him no matter what and faced down true monsters for him. How he had threatened to leave Kuroo, arguably his best friend in the group, behind for no other reason than Daichi was miserable. He tells him about everything Oikawa said, about the expressions on all of their faces.

He tells Suga every thought that’s crossed his mind, every feeling that’s been tormenting him. He tells Suga what he’s been thinking about regarding Vah Takeda, possible new strategies, and how he hasn’t shared them because he’s too scared of failing again. He tells Suga he doesn’t feel as though he deserves to lead.

“Oh, Daichi,” Suga says quietly, his own eyes burning. “I’m not going to yell at you for that. I haven’t felt as though I deserve to be prince once in my entire life. I know what you’re feeling. I understand. I… I don’t know how to make that feeling better, other than to persevere. There isn’t a leader alive who hasn’t faced hardships, but the leaders that are worth following are not the ones who choose to sink instead of swim. Persevere. Don’t leave your friends behind.”

“What… what about Vah Takeda?”

Suga shrugs, keeping a careful eye on Daichi’s features. “You weren’t strong enough,” he says simply. “You lost. So, if you want to win, you’re going to have to get stronger.”

Daichi’s eyes widen. In his insecurity, clearly the idea hadn’t occurred to him. “How?”

Suga shrugs. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen the world in one hundred years. I don’t know what’s still there, what isn’t,  _ who _ is or isn’t. Maybe you can get Vah Mizoguchi and Vah Yamji to help you. Or, you can go get your sword. It might have some effect against the divine beasts that I don’t know about, though I’m hardly an expert.”

Daichi blinks. “My sword?”

“The Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness?” he asks, smiling at the stunned expression on Daichi’s face. “I can tell you where I hid it to keep it safe. It seemed to understand the situation and allowed me to move it unhindered. You might have to backtrack a bit, though, if you’re in Karasuno.”

“Get stronger…” He murmurs in wonder. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a gods-damned genius, Suga?” Daichi smiles, hope shining bright on his features.

Suga snickers. “No, and that’s probably for good reason.”

“So… you’re really not going to yell at me?”

“No,” Suga giggles. “You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re just being a real human. You have feelings, strong ones, so you’re not always going to express them in ways that are healthy or considerate to the people around you. That’s not your fault. Keep your eyes on the real enemy, okay? Any mistake you’ve made, any harsh word you’ve said, has  _ nothing _ on the atrocities Vol has committed on purpose. Everyone around you knows that too. Oikawa was right. Blaming yourself is just self-destructive, not to mention irrational.”

Daichi flickers in front of him, but the smile on his face is grateful. “Thank you, Suga,” he murmurs as he fades away.

Suga takes a deep breath, then his eyes fall back down to his leg.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo.
> 
> mixing it up a bit :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!!

Kageyama Tobio doesn’t mind his job. Really, he doesn’t.

It’s rewarding - both monetarily, and emotionally. It’s satisfying to solve the past’s puzzles, to find something someone worked so hard to hide. That perhaps sounds more ill-intentioned than it is, but humans are interesting creatures who often have ill intentions anyway, in Kageyama’s experience, so he won’t apologize.

He likes his job. He likes cracking puzzles and he likes finding things everyone else said were impossible to find, and he likes having total control over his schedule day to day, including where he’s living and staying.

But the desert? He’s not entirely sure he likes the desert.

For one thing, sand. He feels like doesn’t really need further explanation, but he’s going to provide one anyway. Sand is gross, and sticks to one’s skin, and gets  _ everywhere _ and gets  _ really _ hot in the sun, and seems to reflect that heat back up onto any unfortunate treasure-hunter who may or may not have ignored the innkeeper who warned them of this very thing happening. Also, hiking in sand is  _ exhausting _ and Kageyama is not a fan.

For another thing,  _ hot _ . The sun is hot. The sand is hot. The air is hot. Everything is painfully dry and even his canteen of water, can’t seem to quench his thirst. Fortunately, the heat is dry and as such, not sticky like it can be in the southeast region of Haikyu (he had moved to the mountains after his stint there and hadn’t left them for weeks), or it would probably be completely unbearable.

For another thing, seemingly uninhabitable. Where’s the food? Where are the cattle? Or the goats? Where are the crops? Everything in the desert is either tough, colorless, or impossible to find. Treasure-hunters, no matter how talented, get hungry too after all.

But the thing about the desert, as many complaints as he has, is that the desert, probably due to the reasons listed above, is filled with treasures that have been counted “lost” for centuries. Some tell of treasures hidden by the ancients, the people who can before the humans.

Kageyama has a  _ very _ hard time saying no to challenges, and seeing as his sister is safe and secure in her new life in Nekoma, there’s no one to act as his impulse control/voice of reason/parental figure. Which means he’s going to find all the hidden treasures and no one can stop him.

Even the stupid sun. Bright, hot thing that it is.

He’s not stupid enough to glare at it, but he does flip it the bird as he keeps hiking, occasionally checking the horizon.

His first target is located near the monuments to the Seven Warriors. Nohebi, the biggest city in the region, has a legend that has existed longer than the city itself detailing how the Seven Warriors, massive goddesses of incredible prowess and moral strength, created and came to protect the desert and all life that dwells there. There’s rumor of an eighth, a secretive goddess who guarded her seven sisters from the shadows, facing down foes even the seven didn’t know of. Kageyama intends to find her next, assuming his hunt for the first seven statues pans out well.

The statues are rumored to be in the south east corner of the desert region, encapsulated by a never-ending sandstorm. Legends say only the worthy may approach, and that the goddesses are protecting something no man could ever wield.

Kageyama isn’t sure how much he believes the latter bit - every legend seems to have stipulations on who can or can’t find the treasure, and he’s found most in his experience to be utter bullshit. But he’s nothing if not thorough, and keeping the rumors in mind can’t hurt.

He almost cries in relief when he sees the mountain range that circles the desert and closes it off from the rest of the kingdom on the horizon, fuzzy in the desert heat. The sun is slowly sinking once again - another blessing Kageyama is grateful for. The night will bring cold - almost bitter cold - and life will spring out of the shadows.

Kageyama doesn’t necessarily like people - he’s not all that good at socializing, and people tend to not be as passionate about his work as he is. People are usually pretty dull, too, and their moods are unpredictable. It just doesn’t seem worth the effort for him.

It’s much easier to talk to people when you have something physical that they want, and they have something physical that you want. It keeps the conversation away from hypotheticals and hyperboles, and on topics that Kageyama cares about and feels educated within.

But even though he doesn’t like people, being alone without any living things around him at all doesn’t quite suit him either. Granted, there are scraggly, half-dead looking plants scattered amongst the endless, burning dunes, but they hardly register as living, as far as Kageyama’s concerned.

At this point, Kageyama would take a beetle companion over more sand, even though he’s got a theory that animals of all kinds, for whatever reason, do not like him.

The original point remains. The dark will bring life to this beautiful, miserable, endless place and Kageyama is looking forward to it.

He tries to judge the distance against the remaining daylight. It’s hard, what with the light distortion and the fact that he can’t move nearly as fast as he’s used to in sand, but he does his best. He’d like to arrive at the base of Datekou Mountain, easily identified by the turquoise-ish moss that coats the slopes. The moss doesn’t grow like that anywhere else, which makes it a difficult-to-miss landmark.

Judging by what he heard from travellers at the stable in the mouth of the canyon (one of the only easy paths from the rest of Haikyu into the desert), the statues and whatever treasure they protect, should be just south of the mountain, near the small town of Miyagi. The town is so out of the way that it is rarely travelled to, so Kageyama is interested to see what they know of the statues.

Perhaps the treasure won’t be hidden at all.

He shakes his head to clear it of that thought. He won’t let himself worry about this terrible journey being all for nothing until he has more evidence to support this concept.

Fortunately, if he’s reading his map correctly (he is), he’s heading the right direction, and if he keeps up this pace for a few more hours, he should be, at least, able to see the torches of Miyagi from where he ends up.

He sighs in content, then purses his lips in determination. He pulls the white fabric around his head and face tighter, allowing it to mop up any sweat from his skin and keep him from breathing in any more sand than strictly necessary. 

Then he hikes on.

The city of Miyagi glows warm in the cool blue of the desert night, and Kageyama’s legs are aching by the time he finds his hand pressed against the door to the inn. It’s a small, shabby building with a small stable. 

He pushes inside, mindful of the possibility of other people being in the way of the door. He’s quiet, managing to slip past people’s attention as he walks up to the counter. The innkeeper sees him a moment later, and smiles warmly at him. They have long, dark hair tied back in a loose, casual braid. Kageyama can see the end of their braid swaying by their hips. They have bright golden eyes, warm and soft.

“Good evening,” they say, holding a hand out to him. “My name is Kozume. This is my family’s inn. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“Kageyama,” Kageyama says, a touch awkwardly. “I’m a treasure-hunter.”

Kozume laughs, placing a hand on their chest. “You remind me of my son! He always looks like that when he talks to strangers!”

When Kageyama doesn’t respond, because he genuinely doesn’t know what to say to that, Kozume laughs again. “So, what treasure are you seeking, Kageyama?”

“The prize of the Seven Warriors.”

Their eyes twinkle. “Many have come here looking, but none have ever been successful,” they say. “My son is always telling me I’m too dramatic, but what else am I supposed to think, hm? Wouldn’t you be concerned for your child if something strong enough to keep all those people out exists, apparently so close to us? I would challenge you that any caretaker would be nervous.”

“It could always just be an intelligence issue,” Kageyama says, and Kozume’s eyes widen.

“Oh, you’re  _ funny _ !” They giggle wildly, patting him on the shoulder. He’s not sure what about that was humorous - a lot of the treasures people said were impossible to retrieve were guarded by puzzles, or simple mistranslations of the legends that led hunters astray. “Now, I’ve yammered on long enough. What can I get for you?”

Kageyama feels some of the tension in his shoulders melt away. This is a subject he can handle. “I need a room for a week, maybe two. Do you have any vacancies?”

They wink at him, pulling a massive book from under the counter. “Of course I do, dear. You really are like my Kenma. Almost too direct for your own good. Is a room on the second floor okay?”

“Yes. What is the rate?”

They blink, then shake their head. “A gold coin every two nights, or two gold coins and a silver for a week. That is not including meals. Four gold coins for a week with meals and beverages included.”

Kageyama frowns briefly, then digs out his coin pouch. He hands the innkeeper four gold coins. “If I end up needing more time, I will give you further payment then,” he says in a final sort of way, and Kozume just grins.

“Perfect. Thank you for staying with us, Kageyama. Let me know if there’s anything not to your tastes.” She hands him a small key.

He nods, then looks at the number engraved on the front.  _ 9 _ .

He wanders up the stairs to find his room.

It ends up being near the end of the hall, and when he opens the door, his first thought is cozy. The room is small and warm and there are downy feathers sticking out of the mattress and pillow.

He places his pack on the floor near the foot of the bed, and checks the view out of the small window. It looks down on the town below, which is softly illuminated by the moonlight.

This is far from the worst place he’s stayed, and might make the desert seem a little less horrible, if he’s being honest.

He wakes early the next morning, trying to beat the heat. The town is already bustling - apparently, he’s not the only one who isn’t a fan of the roasting midday sun - and breakfast in the tavern of the inn is made of fresh fruit and vegetables and cool water.

He tries a smile at Kozume, who returns it, pleasure at his content clear on her features.

Today, he decides, he’s going to spend exploring the town. Miyagi may be small, but if he’s learned anything from his past adventures, people often know more about legends than they think and treasure can often be found right under people’s noses. Not only that, but he can’t  _ fathom _ living in a desert and he’s very curious what the advantage is. What is life in the desert like? Surely, it’s not as uncomfortable as yesterday’s journey was, or people wouldn’t bother to live here.

Once he finishes his breakfast, he wanders outside. The morning has painted the sky a lovely mix of orange, red, purple and blue, but there’s still the cool breeze that had started blowing last night giving the air a fresh, energizing taste.

There’s a market set up in the town’s main street, vendors selling everything from paintings, to pottery, to jewelry, to crops, to woven crafts - shawls, blankets, tunics, head coverings, and more - and even some tool stands. The people are smiling and friendly, and clearly, having a complete stranger in their midst is exciting. He can feel them eyeing him, trying to gauge how they’re going to best be able to draw his attention.

He’s not  _ opposed _ to being at the center of attention, but he certainly doesn’t like it in this context. He much prefers to be recognized due to his treasure-hunting, not because of his coin pouch.

He does humor a few of the vendors though - he’s been looking for new tools, after all, and the pottery is just so shiny and beautifully colored that he can’t help but look at the different pieces, and then he sees the jewelry - his sister has always loved jewelry, and something from the desert region would be thrilling for her. 

He ends up purchasing a few things - a pair of earrings with topaz gems, a diadem with an emerald, and a few different tools - a sand shovel, a heavy brush, a small mallet, and what looks like an ice-pick but is apparently used to chip away rock.

His sister will  _ love _ the earrings, and her wife had expressed a love for emeralds the last time he talked with her, so he hopes she’ll like the diadem. Honestly, for the quality of the craftsmanship, and the fact that he  _ knows _ the gems are real, they weren’t that expensive, so Kageyama feels good about the purchase.

He wanders to the businesses in buildings next; there’s a few quaint little restaurants, an antiques store which holds various knick-knacks, bits and bobs of old things but nothing of any value, a grocery store with goat milk, eggs, wheat, and the same selection of fruits and vegetables that the vendors on the street had.

The blacksmithy is interesting - how someone could survive working next to a massive, metal-melting fire in the desert is far beyond Kageyama’s imagination. The weaponry is distinctly desert style, elegant and curved and lightweight. They don’t have anything heavy - no war hammers, no broadswords. It makes sense - no one in their right mind would like to fight with anything more taxing than they’d strictly have to in a desert, where simply being awake is taxing enough as it is in the daytime heat.

There’s some thrill, though, in holding a scimitar, in wielding their curved daggers. It feels foreign - the blades are lighter and seem to cut through the air as though there’s nothing there. Fast, weightless, deadly.

Kageyama didn’t really need weapons - at least, nothing more deadly than his various treasure-hunting tools (hammers and spikes and shovels are surprisingly effective asshole deterrents). But he had to admit everything but the price tag appealed to him.

He ended up leaving without purchasing anything, and he could definitely read the irritation on the blacksmith’s face, but he’s not the kind to get bothered by such things. It just… doesn’t matter.

If all goes to plan, he’ll be gone in a few days, likely not to return to this region until another convincing, fascinating legend promised treasure in the region. It’d have to be pretty enticing to convince him to come back though.

The sun hasn’t quite started to burn everything underneath it alive when he heads for the cliffs. If the legends are true, there should be statues and inscriptions leading him in the right general direction. However, the legends are several hundred years old and have been orally passed down for generations, which means, without a shadow of a doubt, they’re not as accurate as they once may have been.

Still, Kageyama decides not to overthink it. His eyes scan the dunes around him carefully, eyeing every shift and dip. One of the few advantages to the desert is nothing obstructs one’s line of sight.

Which means Kageyama sees the sand-brushed, weathered statue brandishing a sword as soon as he climbs a dune. He grins victoriously, striding toward it.

He takes out his brush, gently brushing the whole statue down. It appears to be of a woman, though the blowing sand has stolen much of her lovingly carved detail. From the shape, Kageyama can tell that she, at one point, had facial features - eyes, a nose, a mouth - but now, there’s only vague indents of where these features were. Her hair, too, in the places the wind couldn’t reach, has great detail, but where the sand could strike, it has worn away. 

The base is buried pretty deep in the sand, so it takes a while for Kageyama to dig it out. When he does, he brushes down the base, delighted to see that the base hasn’t been as worn away as the top half of the statue.

Inscribed on the front of the base are words in the ancient tongue. Kageyama smiles delightedly as he reads,  _ Her sword points to the Seven. _

Gods, Kageyama loves some straightforward clues. 

He follows her sword point, which directs him southeast, grinning as he comes across another statue, almost identical to the first. This one’s sword points directly east. He brushes this one down, and finds the exact same instruction inscribed on the base.

Her sword points to a sandstorm.

He bravely marches forward. He literally walks into the next statue, and then the next, as they lead him deeper and deeper into the blinding, deafening sandstorm. More than once, he stumbles, almost thrown off his feet by the terrifyingly strong winds. 

Finally, he seems to break through the other side of the storm. The sky is clear and the sun is hot on his face. He blinks the sand from his eyes, doing his best to pat himself down. He’s going to have sand  _ everywhere _ for the rest of his life, he’s sure.

Then, he happens to look up.

Looming over him, tall as the cliffs themselves, the Seven Warriors are intimidating and beautiful. They were crafted with obvious care and love, the way every single one of them is a bit different - one has long hair, one has short. One has one eye and a patch, another is missing an arm in a way that looks intentional, especially considering there are no massive arms lying around. One has pointed ears, another has four fingers where her hand grasps the hilt of her weapon. The last has a cloth wrapped around her eyes.

They are holding their weapons of choice out in front of them. A longsword, a scimitar, a mace, a shortsword, another scimitar with a different design, a trident, and an axe. 

They take Kageyama’s breath away. No wonder the people of the desert still honor these women. Kageyama only knows a little of the narratives behind these goddesses, and he would honor them too. They inspire reverence. Despite the fact that they are made of stone, stories brought to reality through impressive craftspersonship, Kageyama feels safe under them.

As he walks up to the stone floor which peeks through the sand, he finds himself in the middle of their semicircle.

They peer down at him, their weapon points resting on the ground before their feet. He feels seen. It’s a discomfiting feeling.

He almost feels bad, trying to find the treasure of these warriors.

Almost.

Taking the treasure won’t make these women any less wondrous to gaze upon, and that’s all that matters as far as he’s concerned. He’s a treasure hunter, which means he appreciates art in all of its forms, and these are truly art. They deserve to be visited, seen.

But that doesn’t mean Kageyama should give up his payment for this trip.

A flash of blue light, high on a statue to his left, catches his eye.

He looks up, squinting the bright sun, but sees nothing amiss. Maybe a bird? He knows there are cliff-dwelling birds - maybe one in blue, and the feathers glint in the sunlight. 

He doesn’t see any birds, though.

Another flash in his peripherals. This time, a statue to his right. He spins. Nothing there. No sign of birds, no unusual sounds.

There was nothing about blue flashes in the legends, that much he’s sure of. Which means  _ this… _ is uncharted territory. He’s never faced something like this before. What could it mean? What is it? Is this another trial which guards the Warriors’ treasure? A puzzle? How does he solve it? What’s the goal? Is it a trap? If so, how does he avoid getting trapped?

He almost jumps out of his skin at the voice which calls from above. “Hello! Who are you?”

He spins. His jaw drops.

Sitting on the crossguard of the longsword, high, high above his head, sits a boy who glows blue.

A ghost? Kageyama does not believe in ghosts.

“My name’s Shouyo!” The ghost says, brightly, smiling. It’s almost painful to look up at him. “What’s your name?” He flickers out of view, briefly.

“K-Kageyama,” Kageyama stutters.

“Hello, Kageyama! I’ve never seen you around here before! Whatcha doing?”

This is  _ so _ above his pay grade. “I’m… I’m a treasure-hunter,” he says, watching Shouyo light up, wiggling in excitement.

“That’s so cool! I don’t know any treasure-hunters! You must have been all over the place then, huh? All my friends are witches, and they like to stay pretty close to their coven, so they don’t travel much. I’ve always wanted to see the world, though! I’m sure there’s so many cool things outside the mountains and the desert to see! I want to meet the harpies! And the merpeople!”

“Right,” Kageyama mutters, worried that this is what heat-stroke feels like.

“You probably know all about the harpies and the merpeople! Which culture do you like better? I want to fly like a harpy and swim like a merperson! That would be so awesome! Can you imagine? Dominating the sky or the water like that? That’d be so, so amazing!”

“Are you a ghost?” He finally manages.

Shouyo pauses in surprise. “A ghost?” He cocks his head to one side. “Don’t you have to be dead to be a ghost?”

Dumbly, Kageyama nods. 

Shouyo giggles. “I’m not dead, silly! I’m just a hologram!”

“A hollow… what?”

Shouyo vanishes from sight, then reappears sitting between the prongs of the trident. “A hologram! A projection! Ukai helps me, so I can make friends without ever leaving him. It’s his job to keep me safe, my mom says!”

The name sounds familiar, but Kageyama is too baffled to place it. “A projection.”

Shouyo nods cheerfully. “Now you’re getting it!”

Kageyama is most certainly  _ not _ getting it, but he allows Shouyo to think so. “How old are you?”

Shouyo blinks. “I think I turn forty-nine this year!”

Any grasp of rational thought Kageyama was gathering shatters in that moment.

Shouyo may be a ghost… or a projection… or a hollow whatever, but he does  _ not _ look forty-eight. He doesn’t look any older than Kageyama himself. 

“How old are you, Kageyama?” Shouyo asks, eager.

“Eighteen,” he murmurs.

“I remember being eighteen!” Shouyo says with a particularly enthusiastic wiggle. “That was a long time ago. Eighteen was fun, though! My mom was hoping I’d hit my growth spurt that year,” he giggles nervously. “It hasn’t happened yet. I bet it’ll happen before I turn fifty!”

Kageyama has no idea what to say to that. He’s socially awkward at the best of times, or at least that’s what his sister’s wife has told him, but he’s pretty sure this time is not his fault. Or, if it is, he has  _ no _ clue what he did to make it his fault. He’s hardly said anything the whole time!

Shouyo looks up, over his shoulder, then yells, “Okay, Mom!” He turns to Kageyama. “Sorry, but I have to go. My baby sister wants to play jump rope with me, and my mom says dinner's almost ready! We’re going to have roasted vulture and scrambled eggs tonight!”

Kageyama stares. “Okay.”

“Come back tomorrow, and we can talk some more!” Shouyo says, waving. “Bye!”

“Bye,” Kageyama says dully, as Shouyo disappears from existence.

What in the  _ hell _ just happened.

As if he’ll come back tomorrow.

This treasure, whatever it may be, is  _ not _ worth dealing with ghosts or forty-nine year olds who look no older than nineteen, or overly sociable people. He can go find treasure over by the Shrine of Resurrection. He  _ knows _ there’s a legend about treasure near there. There’s also the Haikyu bridge, which stretches across Lake Haikyu, and there’s supposedly treasure there too. 

He has options. Options that don’t include sticking around one more moment here.

He turns on his heel, prepared to walk out and forget this entire encounter, and is scared out of his wits  _ again _ when he realizes there’s a young woman standing behind him.

Straw-blonde hair, crystal necklaces, and a small leather pouch on her hip. “Hello. Have you seen Shouyo? I was running a little late today and I’m afraid I might have missed him.”

Because Kageyama is socially awkward, there’s a long pause between when she speaks and when he finally finds the wherewithal to respond.

“The ghost?” He says, finally, and the woman’s eyes widen.

Then she laughs, nervous and bright. “He certainly does look like a ghost, doesn’t he?” She says. “I must have missed him then, if you saw him. Was he well? I can’t help but worry about him. Especially-” she cuts herself off abruptly, shaking her head.

Kageyama simply stares at her. “Yeah, I guess.”

She smiles. “Good. His sister? Mom?”

“He didn’t seem upset about anything,” Kageyama says, feeling a bit like he’s having a weird dream.

“Good,” she sighs, placing a hand over her heart. “I don’t know what I would do if he was struggling too. It’s a crazy world we live in, you know? Keeping your loved ones safe is sometimes all you can try to do.”

Kageyama is decidedly out of his depth. “What’s your name?”

She smiles, sticking her hand out for him to shake. “Yachi Hitoka. You?”

“Kageyama Tobio.”

“Nice to meet you, Kageyama. So what are you doing way out here, all by yourself?” She seems content to small-talk, and Kageyama feels his shoulders tense. He is  _ not _ good at small talk. Especially not with people about his age. Especially not when he has nothing else to distract the conversation and likely nothing in common.

“Treasure,” he says, wincing a bit at how sharply and unhelpfully that came out.

Yachi grins. “Ooh! Are you seeking the treasure of the Seven?”

He nods.

“Well, I can’t say I know where it is, but I know you’ve gotten farther than some! A lot of people give up when they realize the sandstorm isn’t going to let up for them!”

He doesn’t say that the appearance of Shouyo, and the possibility he may have to socialize with the ghost man-boy again makes it so any appeal of finding the treasure seems vastly less exciting. Instead, he says, “Do you know if the eighth Warrior is real?”

She blinks. “I don’t, actually. It’s nowhere near Miyagi or the Seven, but that’s all I can say for certain.”

“Is there anyone I could talk to who might know?”

She bites her lip, considering. “Asking the rest of my coven probably wouldn’t be the worst idea. There’s a lot of really talented seeking witches in Miyagi, for whatever reason.”

“You’re a witch?” Kageyama asks, considering the crystals around her throat with a new eye. “Shouyo mentioned his friends were witches.”

Yachi grins. “He and Kenma and I have been friends for a long time. He’s always been super sweet to us. He’s a good friend.” She looks up at the Seven, then at Kageyama. “Can I help you with your treasure hunting? I’ve never done any treasure hunting before.”

Kageyama should say no. He should tell Yachi to go away, that he works alone, that he won’t share the loot. But today has been a crazy weird day, and his brain still hasn’t quite recovered, so instead, he says, “Okay.”

She grins. “What do we do?”

He takes a deep breath, desperately trying to gather his thoughts into some semblance of order. “Uh… Look for inscriptions, or strange patterns or grooves carved into the cliff face or the statues themselves. People leave traces, regardless of who they are or what they’re doing. Sometimes, those traces can disappear with time, but not always. Finding those traces can be the key to finding things people wanted to hide.”

Yachi’s eyes go wide, and she nods. “I can use my magic to search for traces of human vitality.” Kageyama pauses - he hadn’t thought of using magic to help his searching - but his thoughts are interrupted by Yachi continuing. “My magic is stronger with people, which is pretty unique in my coven. I’ve also got a talent for purifying and healing magic. Kenma - I mentioned him earlier - is a seer and really good with communication magic. He’s able to reach out to people with his magic across the kingdom! He’s super powerful with spells, too. I think it’s because he’s so stubborn and determined that no matter what he’s trying to do, he wants to see it through, no matter how many tries it takes! There’s this other woman in my coven named Yukie, and she’s incredible with food magic! She can manipulate the taste and appearance of food in her sleep! It makes her super good with potions and poisons too! I’m super lucky to be in a coven where there’s so much strength and talent.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that - he doesn’t even know that many people intimately; his only real friends being his sister and her wife. It makes something in him ache though - just a bit. She is lucky, he realizes. Lucky to have friends, lucky to be known.

“How about you? Do you know any other treasure-hunters?”

Kageyama bites his lip. “No. I’m young enough that they all try to take advantage of me, or trick me into scams. It’s easier to not associate with them at all.”

“Oh, that makes sense. That’s sad that they don’t just respect you as an equal. I can tell you’re pretty competent at what you do.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Yachi hums. “What are your friends like? Your not-treasure-hunter friends?”

Kageyama blinks. “I… Um… don’t have those.”

It’s Yachi’s turn to pause, cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry!”

He shrugs, uncomfortable. “I’m… uh… You know… Awkward, I guess. My sister says I’m obnoxious.”

Yachi gapes. “I don’t-”

“Can we talk about something else?” Kageyama cuts her off, wincing. “I… I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry about me. Besides, we only just met, alright? You don’t even know me. You shouldn’t worry.”

Her hazel eyes narrow, and for a moment, Kageyama is pinned under gaze. She seems to see something in him, and nods decidedly. “You need to spend more time with Shouyo. He’s great at making people feel more comfortable with themselves! He’s not like me or my coven, but sometimes I swear he’s a new kind of magic we’ve never seen before!”

Kageyama lets out a slow breath. “Why?”

She doesn’t say anything at first, just smiles. “Because Shouyo can make friends with anyone. Kenma thinks it’s stupid, but I really think he could befriend Vol if Ukai let him get close enough.”

He doesn’t know how to handle this. He’s not sure what the right response to this question is. But, her eyes are genuine and she hasn’t flinched at anything he’s said or done. Despite himself, he likes her. He trusts her word.

“Okay,” he hears himself say.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello
> 
> classes make brain go brrrrrr words are hard
> 
> i hope you like the chapter anyways!!

“Alright,” Daichi says, trying to sound confident. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

His group look at him, and none of them manage to hide the worry in their eyes. He winces.

“As you all know, I’ve talked to Suga quite a bit over the past week,” he says, throwing a grateful look Kuroo’s way. “Thank you for asking on my behalf, Kuroo. Please pass my thanks on to Kenma.” Kuroo nods. “Getting to see Suga a few times… it really helped me refocus. The fact that you all allowed me that time is not something I take for granted. Fortunately, Suga also had a really good idea… which really shouldn’t surprise me, because he’s really smart, but…” he shakes his head, “I’m getting off topic. Suga says that we need to get stronger. It’s not that we  _ can’t _ beat Vah Takeda. It’s that we can’t beat him  _ yet. _ ”

The others perk up. “So how did he think we should do that?” Bokuto sounds excited, more so than he’s sounded in the past several days since their attack on Vah Takeda. 

“We split up,” Daichi says, watching surprise pass over all their features. “Bokuto, Akaashi; go back to Vah Yamji. Learn to pilot it. Oikawa, Iwaizumi; return to Vah Mizoguchi. Learn to pilot it. If we can’t beat Vah Takeda alone, we need allies. Besides, we need to learn to use them eventually. Might as well be now.” He turns to Kuroo. “If you’d like to join me, I’m going to go look for the Sword Which Holds Back the Darkness.”

For a moment, they all blink, silence blanketing the small group.

Then they explode into noise - everyone has their own, very strong opinions on this plan and apparently they’ve thrown civil discussion to the wind and have decided they’d much rather shout over one another.

Daichi just waits. One long moment, and Karasu decides to interject her opinion.

In the arching, cavernous hall of glistening turquoise stone they had chosen to meet in, Karasu lets out the loudest, most irate squeal a horse can manage, and it shocks everyone into silence.

Daichi smiles. “Thank you, Karasu.” He turns to his friends. “You all get to live with the fact that you got out-shouted by a horse.”

It’s Oikawa who regains his tongue, and he smiles. “She’s still not a horse.”

“Not the point,” Daichi says with a grin. “I know you’re all anxious to beat Vah Takeda, if for no other reason than your pride, but there’s no use risking our lives this early in the game. If we can’t beat Vah Takeda, there’s no way in hell we’re gonna be able to defeat Vol. So, we need to regroup, and consider our other options.”

“Prince Sugawara really  _ did _ put his genius to work, didn’t he?” Kuroo chuckles. “How much of this are you just repeating what he said verbatim?”

“Most of it, but again, not the point.”

“I’m just glad you’re feeling better, Daichi,” Bokuto sighs in relief. “It was really scary with you bein’ all mopey.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes. “Once again, Bokuto, your tact is astounding.”

Daichi shakes his head. “I’m glad I’m feeling better as well. Hopelessness is not a good state of mind to be in. But, anyways, I respect your determination, but gathering allies can only strengthen us. Suga promised me he will be okay for a while. I want to check in with him every so often, but the more allies we acquire, the sooner we can take Vol down for good.”

“That’s not really my worry,” Iwaizumi says quietly, crossing his arms. “Of course there’s strength in numbers. But what you’re glossing over is the fact that if Oikawa and I are in Aoba Johsai, and Bokuto and Akaashi are in Fukurodani, that leaves you and Kuroo completely alone. We know there are forces of all kinds and strengths against us. We need to be careful.”

“Nishinoya and Tanaka offered their continued services,” Daichi says calmly. “Now that their injuries are mostly healed, it won’t be just me and Kuroo.”

“And it’s not like the two of us are incompetent,” Kuroo offers with a frown. “We survived just fine before we found you all.”

“It’s not so much that you’re incompetent,” Oikawa murmurs. “It’s that if either of you die while we’re gone, it’s going to feel as though it’s our fault. Even if the worst that happens is you get hurt, we’re still going to blame ourselves. We’ve been travelling together for quite a while now. We’re friends. It’s not as easy a decision as you make it out to be.”

“I’m not trying to argue that it wouldn’t be safer to go together. There’s just too much to do and too little time. Just off the top of my head, here are some of the tasks we need to accomplish: we need to find the other dragons, and any other deities that may or may not still exist. We need to retake Vah Takeda. I need to find my sword. We need to gather covens to fight alongside us. We need to get Kenma back to his body. We need to find Vah Ukai. We need all of the pilots to train with their Beasts so that they can use them in the fight against Vol. We need to find the best way to approach Vol. We need to beat Vol. 

“And that’s just off the top of my head, guys. That’s probably not even everything. If we try to do all of that, one at a time, we’re  _ never _ going to save Suga in time.” He focuses on how it felt to hug Suga in order to ward off a coming headache. 

There’s a beat of silence. “It’s hard to argue that,” Iwaizumi concedes.

“Where will we meet up again?” Akaashi asks quietly. “We discussed a lot about splitting up, but very little about joining back up.”

Daichi watches as Kuroo turns to the side, looking into empty space. He’d come to recognize that this is what it looks like when Kuroo is talking to Kenma.

“Kenma says he could probably reach out mentally and let us know when and where,” Kuroo says eventually. “If each of us complete the most important of our tasks, we can keep going and work on others until we need to meet up again. Kill as many birds with as few stones as possible.”

“What if  _ we _ run into trouble?” Oikawa asks, and everyone goes quiet for a moment. “What if we can’t find a witch who can contact you?”

Kuroo stares off into space again, nodding slightly. “Kenma says to seek out court clerics. They have strong communication magic, apparently.”

“There aren’t clerics in Fukurodani,” Bokuto says quietly. “Harpy magic isn’t like human magic. It doesn’t work the same way.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“I feel the answer’s obvious.” Princess Kiyoko’s voice comes from behind Daichi, and everyone turns to look at her. “If there are not witches already in Fukurodani, they should bring a witch with them to Fukurodani. Wouldn’t that solve the problem? Same with Aoba Johsai. I would be more than happy to assign witches from Karasuno to join you and assist in your communication needs.”

They all blink, stunned. Daichi is the first to recover.

“Yeah, that should have been obvious,” he says with a goofy grin. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“And better yet, they will be familiar faces. Kinoshita and Narita are both low-level witches. They are far better warriors, so they rarely make their magical talents known, but they should be strong enough when partnered with Kenma.” She sends a look toward Kuroo. “Does Kenma agree?”

Kuroo stares toward his left, then grins. “Kenma agrees.”

“Excellent. I will let them know. Sir Sawamura,” she continues, eyes sparkling. “Nishinoya and Tanaka are both very excited to join you. They await only a hint of a word.”

He smiles. “Perfect. We’ll plan to leave in three days’ time. A few of our wounds need a couple more days’ healing.”

“I will let them know,” she says, then walks toward one of the gaping windows in the hall. Cleanly, with a practiced grace, she dives out of the window. If it weren’t for the splash, Daichi would be horrified. 

“That,” Oikawa says, speaking for the rest of them, “is how to make a memorable exit.”

“Agreed,” Akaashi murmurs, cautiously stepping toward the window to ensure that the splash wasn’t a splat. He clings to Bokuto’s hand the whole time.

Kageyama Tobio had decided long ago that covens unsettled him.

How could they not?

They were tight knit groups of people who used magical powers in order to work toward goals of varying morality.

Kageyama is a person who works alone, never uses magic, and spends all of his time looking for things people no longer care about. 

They’re basically the opposite. And that’s not even considering the fact that there’s one coven in the northwest corner of the kingdom that wants his head on a pike for reasons he’s still not  _ entirely _ sure about.

But Yachi doesn’t seem to notice his unease as she leads him through the small group of buildings her coven resides in.

Most of the witches wave at him, apparently used to Yachi’s tendencies, and he awkwardly waves back. They seem nice, he admits. None of them are chasing him down with spears yet, which is a bonus.

Yachi is talking cheerfully about her coven, explaining bits of their history and scraps of their legends. She talks about the head witch, and how she earned her spot as their leader. She points to smaller buildings as they pass, explaining what the coven uses them for: a potion brewing space, a purifying circle, a scrying pool.

Turning toward him excitedly, she grins. “And this is my room!” She opens the door.

The room is small, but cozy, with crystals strung on twine, with tiny baskets of succulents suspended from the ceiling. Sunlight is pouring in through the small window, liquid gold pooling on the floor. A truly tiny kitten is curled under the desk, staring at the puddle of light with nothing short of irritation.

“That’s Yoyo,” Yachi says, crouching to beckon to the ball of fluff. “She’s funny. She doesn’t like any cat toys, or any treats, or anything. But she’ll do  _ anything _ to attack a yoyo.”

Kageyama grimaces as Yachi picks up Yoyo and holds her out to him. “Animals don’t like me,” he says, making no moves to take Yoyo from her.

Yachi’s eyes narrow. “No way. How could they not?”

Kageyama flushes. He’s never been good at taking compliments. “They’re not in the minority,” he mumbles.

“Nonsense! Besides, Yoyo likes everyone!” Yachi says with a bright smile. “See?”

And she all but tosses the kitten onto Kageyama.

Kageyama scrambles to catch her, but it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Yoyo is no in-experienced climber, and does not hesitate to dig her claws in his tunic and zip up his torso until she’s perched on his shoulder. She lets out a pleased mewl, surveying her view from the new height. She looks to Yachi and meow, then up at Kageyama.

“She’s going to fall,” Kageyama says, holding completely still.

Yachi bursts out giggling. “Kageyama, she’s a cat. Even if she were to fall, she’d still be okay. She’d just twist in the air and land on her feet. But, she’s not going to fall. Her favorite thing in all the world to do is to sit on my head and supervise my day. On your shoulder, she’ll be even more stable than she’s used to. Just let her be and come see my theories!”

Kageyama blinks, gaze darting between Yachi and Yoyo.

Hesitantly, he comes to stand by her side at her desk. Pages and pages of papyrus, with loopy scrawl adorning every speck of the page with sketches interspersed between lay spread out on her desk.

“Near as Kenma and I can tell,” Yachi says, “Shouyo is trapped in a secret base, held captive by this guy named Ukai, who is, like,  _ super _ smart and ultra powerful. Shouyo doesn’t give us much to go off of - he says it’s neither our business nor does he want it to be - but Kenma and I are pretty sure this Ukai has just convinced him that his control is benevolent. Shouyo’s super obsessed with finding and meeting the Hero, too, which might be a result of him being trapped by adults his entire life. Looking for a savior.”

"Well, if you have both witches, can't you use your magic to track and save him?" Kageyama winces a bit at his tone. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh.

Yachi hums. "Well, most magic is dependent on having something to work with. The problem here is that Shouyo is little more than an illusion when he appears to us. Since he won't give us anything to work with, we have neither a lifeform nor a place of any sort to search for. Believe me when I say, Kenma and I have been trying to figure out how to save him since the first time we met him, as frustrating as it's been."

"So... he doesn't think he's trapped, and you don't have any means with which to find him. And if what Shouyo said is true, he's not trapped alone. He mentioned his sister and his mother."

She hums again. "Yep."

Kageyama wonders if he might have been better off running away in the night with his treasure. This seems like a very complicated and sensitive issue, and he doesn't have a great history with either type of issue.

“We decided the best thing we could do for Shouyo is to simply be his friend. He won’t tell us, and we have no means of forcing the issue. We don’t really have a choice but to do our best to support him. We can’t do anything else.”

“Have you tried explaining-”

“Yes.” Yachi shakes her head. “We’ve tried everything. He simply won’t be convinced. He doesn’t think Ukai is doing anything wrong, and nothing we say has even come close to changing his mind. The best we’ve been able to do is piss him off.”

“Okay…”

“It’s not nearly as grim as it sounds,” Yachi says with a sad smile. “He’s well-taken care of. He’s clean, well-fed, fit, and has never once been sick. That, and he’s basically always happy. His mental health seems sound, and because this Ukai allows him to travel around in the form of an illusion, he doesn’t feel trapped. He’s never endangered by the outside world.”

“I… I guess I would feel the same,” Kageyama says, frowning a bit. “If I never knew anything else.”

“That’s what I think, too. I think, if he does get the chance to meet the Hero, that might be the thing to convince him. But until then,” she shrugs. “What will come, will come.”

“So… What do you all do together, when he’s just an illusion?”

Yachi grins. “Sometimes, we do crafts! He’s got plants and clay wherever it is he’s at, so we can make flower crowns or mugs or bowls, and sometimes we paint. When Kenma’s here, we play games. Kenma likes to invent games to play, and we’ll take turns being Shouyo’s hands so he can play as if he were there.”

“And you think I need to hang out with him because…”

“Well, because you’re obviously in need of some good aura!”

Kageyama blinks at her. “Good… aura…”

She grins. “Of course!” She giggles as Kageyama still stands, confused. “There’s good aura and bad aura. People are happiest when they are surrounded by good aura, and the most distressed when surrounded by bad aura! You have neither, which means that you’re not happy, nor are you particularly distraught. But Shouyo is like… like the sun when it comes to good aura! He’s so bright that sometimes I can’t bear to look at him!”

Kageyama cocks a head to one side. “So, I could find good aura anywhere?”

“Yes, but why would you go far away when Shouyo is right here?” She grins.

Kageyama is not convinced - the desert, he’s decided, is far too hot and the people here are too unpredictable. He signed up for treasure, not for illusions how apparently radiate happy vibes strong enough to blind people and witches who are far too friendly with strangers for their own good. “Shouyo isn’t his family name, is it? What’s his family name?”

Irritation flickers across her face at the redirection, clearly noting that Kageyama was not convinced by her enthusiastic pitch. “We don’t know. He won’t tell us. He says it’s not important.”

“If he’s keeping it a secret, that probably means it’s important,” Kageyama says.

She huffs. “Agreed. But again, there’s not much we can do about it. He won’t tell us.”

“You let him get away with a lot,” he says, frowning a bit. “How can you trust him when he doesn’t tell you anything? You know so little about him.”

She blinks. “That’s not how we look at it. He  _ is _ honest with us - he keeps some things locked away, but he’ll tell us just about anything else we ask. He’s told us about his mom and his baby sister and his grandma. He even talks about Ukai sometimes.”

Something about the name  _ Ukai  _ itches. It sounds familiar. It could just be someone he’d met on his travels, someone he sold treasure to or bought expensive gear from, but that just… doesn’t feel right. “That’s all fine and dandy, but the fact he’s keeping some big things secret is at  _ least _ suspicious.”

She shrugs. “You can ask him yourself, if you don’t believe me. He’s not being deceptive in a malicious way.”

He nods. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

Lying in bed that night, thinking about his conversation with Yachi and his brief meeting with Shouyo, Kageyama finally puts a couple pieces together in his head.

Ukai.

Ukai is one of the Divine Beasts.

The Divine Beast that went missing.

It could be a coincidence. A person who just so happens to have the same family name. But it seems  _ too _ coincidental that Shouyo can’t tell where he is, that Ukai has such a tight leash on him, and that Shouyo makes use of technology that Kageyama’s never seen the likes of. 

But if Shouyo lives in the Divine Beast that was lost one hundred years ago…

His heart stops.

What if… what if Shouyo is… related to Champion Hinata?

What if his name is  _ Hinata  _ Shouyo?

Did Kageyama just stumble upon the most valuable treasure of the century?

Azumane Asahi does not think he deserves this.

A vine breaks free from his carefully gathered bun, swinging in front of his eyes as he slams his fist down on a Bokoblin. It’s purple eyes flash red as it disintegrates in front of him, leaving specks of Asahi’s bark, which had broken off at the contact, fluttering to the ground.

Damn it.

Aone is not having much better luck, but Asahi can’t help but grimace as he leaps into the air, fast and powerful, slamming both feet down into the enraged Bokoblin’s head. The monster’s axe clunks softly against the earth as its owner withers to nothing. Some of Aone’s off-white bark around his feet peels, but he seems unbothered as he picks up the fallen weapon and cleaves another Bokoblin in half.

Asahi really didn’t have a second to spend watching him fight, and has to duck in terror as another monster, a Lizalfos this time, tries to replace his head with a small boulder. Pulling the light weight dagger from its sheath on his belt, he whirls it at the center of its chest. He sighs in relief as it topples to the ground. He shakes the dust off his dagger - nasty stuff, monster dust - and slips it back in its sheath.

Aone body-slams the last of the lizalfos into the cliffside, splattering monster dust everywhere in an instant.

Finally, for the first time since the sun set, Asahi takes a breath.

“You know what this means,” Aone says, quiet and somber.

“Yeah.” He looks up at the moon. It is far from its peak, and already, it shimmers red. Monsters always seem stronger under the blood moon. As if they weren’t strong enough already. “It’s going to be a long night.” Wearily, he eyes the gash on his leg, where an axe blow threatened to completely remove the limb. It’d take loads of magic to heal it entirely, so he wraps roots around, around, around it. For now, he thinks, it will hold.

“If the monsters are getting stronger, so must the hero be,” Aone rumbles, coaxing roots from the ground to wrap around his arm, stabilizing and nourishing the massive wound. “The fact that we have to fight like we do is an encouragement. The rumors must be true. The hero must have returned.

Asahi’s head swivels to the crack of a twig being snapped in the underbrush. “I just hope he hurries. While it is not impossible for us to keep this up, it’s not exactly pleasant. At some point, there will be too many casualties for us to hold the line.”

Hyakuzawa roars in the distance, and there’s the wail of dying hinox. The cry is taken up by what sounds like Kai, and perhaps Koganegawa. More dying monsters cry out.

“It is fortunate, too,” Aone says, frowning in the direction of the fighting, “that these monsters lack any form of intelligence.”

Asahi grimaces as a Bokoblin arrow slams into his hip, and he tears it out irritably. “Be that as it may, I wish weapons required some level of intelligence to use.” He, too, lets his magic sing to the roots, twining them around the Bokoblin archer’s legs, then crushing its ankles to a pulp. The monster screeches, then falls silent.

“I wasn’t referring to their combat prowess,” Aone snorts.

Asahi knows what he  _ was _ referring to, of course. The Forgotten Wood is as big as it is treacherous, with heavy mist and winding, illogical paths. Monsters, driven only by rage and hunger, would likely not be able to penetrate through to the prize within. He and the other Koroks only further trip them up - there’s a small chance that one of them might make it through, after all, and that’s not acceptable, even if the odds aren’t in the monsters’ favor. 

The Koroks stand as an impassable wall, half way through the Wood. If the first half of the Wood is not enough to keep the monsters out, the Koroks will be. The second half of the Wood, and the temple at the center, will never be seen by the monsters, not unless every last Korok is slain and every last trick the Wood can pull proves pointless.

Koroks do not need sleep, and the nutrients they need are easily pulled from the soil beneath their feet. They are not a violent people, but they are excellent warriors and determined to the core. Prince Sugawara asked only one thing of the Korok people before he went to face Vol alone, after losing all of his friends, family, and allies. 

They would not let him down.

“I will let Futakuchi know that we are out of arrows, and the last of our weapons have broken,” Aone says, closing his eyes as he focuses on his magic. Asahi takes up a defensive stance in front of him, manipulating roots and twisting his magic into a shield. He picks up the Bokoblin axe - Aone had dropped it at some point, probably in favor of smashing the Bokoblin with sheer bodyweight instead.

When a lizalfos leaps out of the underbrush, straight for Asahi, he reacts quickly. The roots grab the monster’s limbs, its horn.

Asahi’s axe separates the monster’s head from its shoulders in an arc of monster dust.

The night is long. By the time the sun finally rises, killing the Stalkoblins which had risen from the ground and brought a new level of violence to the fight, Asahi is exhausted.

He and Aone had both lost limbs in the course of the night - Asahi an arm, Aone an arm and a foot, cropped at the ankle. He winces at the thought of how much magic and energy it would take to regrow them. 

For now, he contents himself with breathing deeply, asking the earth for nutrients and thanking it silently as it provides them. It was a long night. And seeing as the vast majority of monsters are not dissuaded by the daylight, it will be a long day, too.

A single, sharp note, a war horn.

It comes from the direction of Aran and Suna.

The horn signals one of them is down. Not dead yet, but will be soon if they don’t get immediate assistance.

“Go,” Asahi tells Aone with a determined grimace. “We can’t afford to lose anyone, and you’re more effective in a crisis. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Aone nods, only once, then sprints off.

Asahi stands alone as Bokoblins, unsure if this is some sort of trap, creep out of the treeline. Asahi notes the weapons they carry. One has a massive club.

He would like a club like that. His had splintered yesterday afternoon when he smashed it through a Moblin’s head. Clubs are good weapons.

He meets the Bokoblin’s eyes. “Can I have that?”

It snarls at him.

Asahi twirls the axe in his hand. There’s four of them, and one of him. If he put enough strength behind his swing, he could probably take out two of them in one hit. 

So he does, moving as fast as he can. He swings the axe in a horizontal arc, locking his joints and putting all the strength his body can provide him in this beaten, injured state. He’s gratified almost immediately.

The two he was aiming for drop dead, and a third, which wasn’t in the path of his axe to begin with, inexplicably decided to move, and too gets caught in the swing and falls dead.

Which leaves only the Bokoblin carrying the axe.

The interesting thing about the monsters who penetrate the first layer of the forest is that they know no fear. This Bokoblin looks at Asahi, who is perhaps twice its height and definitely three times its weight, this Bokoblin who is all on its own and definitely out classed, decides to attack without a second thought.

Asahi brings the club down on top of it, smashing it into oblivion.

“What do you mean you know where my sword is?”

Nishinoya blinks at him, then turns to Tanaka. “Was it a secret?”

Tanaka shrugs. 

Nishinoya turns back to Daichi. “It seemed pretty obvious to me. I mean, I guess the crown prince didn’t  _ tell  _ me anything specifically, but the impenetrable forest mysteriously guarded by beings you can’t find anywhere else in the kingdom? A forest where magic is literally everywhere? I can’t imagine a safer place for it, and Prince Sugawara is definitely pretty smart.”

Kuroo face-palms. “How did we miss that?”

“So, you two know where this forest is?”

Nishinoya grins. “Yes, sir! My Gramps tried to take the forest by force once!”

Daichi just takes a breath. “Okay.”

With Bokuto and Akaashi on their way back to Fukurodani and Oikawa and Iwaizumi heading back to Aoba Johsai, the group had been strangely quiet. Not that Nishinoya and Tanaka are particularly quiet individuals, but two people can’t replace the noise of four.

It’s been weird. Not bad, just… weird.

“Kenma wants me to tell you that moping isn’t an attractive look on you,” Kuroo says, sounding tired. “I want to tell you that as someone who also misses Bo and the others, you’re not the only one moping.”

Daichi chuckles. “I hear you, Kenma. It’s just weird. Bo’s been with us since the beginning. By the time I finally get used to it, we’ll be meeting up again and I’ll be thrown off all over again. I think it’s good for me. You all probably want a break from the nonsense that follows me like a shadow too.”

Kuroo grins. “I can’t speak for the rest of these losers, but I’m used to your shadow of nonsense.”

Tanaka and Nishinoya grin. “You know, Sir Sawamura, that we only joined your mission because of the promise of nonsense, right?” Tanaka snickers. “Why else would anyone join a mission against the biggest evil this world has ever known, if not for the dashing and goofy and somewhat nonsensical hero?”

“Yeah, we joined  _ because _ of you, not in spite of you!” Nishinoya agrees brightly.

Daichi rolls his eyes. “Flattering. I’m so glad that my appearance has more sway than saving the world.”

Tanaka cackles. “You’re not seeing what I’m lookin’ at, boss.”

“Look at the map so the two of you dimwits can lead us to the apparently obvious magic forest that no one bothered to tell me about.”

Tanaka sticks his tongue out, but digs out his map and he and Nishinoya pour over it.

Kuroo nudges him. “You do know we’re here ‘cause we wanna be, right? None of us are here out of some misplaced sense of requirement. You’re a knight, sure, and important to the crown prince, but to be honest, there’s not much pull to obey you. You’re living one hundred years after what feels like the fall of the monarchy, and the only person who gives you power is trapped in a castle leagues away. While everyone who meets you knows that  _ technically _ you have  _ some _ power, there’s not much you can do if we decide we don’t give a shit.”

Daichi stares at him for a moment. “You know, I thought you were comforting me for the first… like… half of that, but by the time you finished, I’m pretty sure you were threatening me.”

Kuroo snorts, elbowing him. “Asshole. You know what I meant. We’re following you, dummy, because we like you. Nonsense and all.”

“Hey, Kuroo?” Daichi says, and Kuroo looks at him in surprise. “I never properly apologized for what I said. You know… when I… I said I would leave you behind. I wouldn’t. I need you to know that. You’re like… my best friend. I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

Kuroo freezes for a moment, cheeks heating. He ducks his head, and Daichi thinks he’s going to laugh at him until he hears him sniffle. Kuroo swipes at his cheeks. 

Daichi slings an arm around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “I’m giving you a free pass to punch me the next time I say something stupid like that.”

“This way!” Nishinoya roars, leaping into the river. Tanaka is soon to follow.

Apparently, Karasuno citizens are just as fast at swimming as horses are at a canter, so it made more sense to follow the flow of the river than to bother dragging another two horses around. Worst case, they could just double up.

Daichi mounts, and Karasu is eager to follow. Kuroo is right by his side.


End file.
